


Aftermath

by corporal_captain_nincompact



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Biphobia, Bipolar Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e24 Abyssinia Henry, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Medication, Slash, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-06-13 20:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corporal_captain_nincompact/pseuds/corporal_captain_nincompact
Summary: The events that follow the news of Henry Blake's passing.





	1. The Blame

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a total work in progress and will be my first multi-chaptered work. I'm about to go on a road trip for work so I wanted to get the first chapter out of my system before I leave. 
> 
> This is my personal take on everything that transpired after Henry dies. It's always been a huge question mark for me and I wanted to explore how the characters made it through to where we see them in Welcome to Korea. 
> 
> It's going to be an emotional journey. See you on the other side.

The words came out of nowhere and cut them off at the knees. 

"Lt. Colonel Henry Blake's plane was shot down over the Sea of Japan... it spun in. There are no survivors..."

No one could speak.

No one dared to. 

As quick as he arrived, Mercury had turned on his heels so that he wouldn't do anything more to contaminate the operating room. Breathing those words did more than enough damage. He'd completed his horrific task. His heavy, hurtful, impossible task. He didn't dare wait around to witness the aftermath. There were a million other menial tasks he needed to complete: supply requisitions, daily reports, posting the updated duty roster, delivering the mail... Nothing would touch him if he just kept moving. 

It was the middle of the night when the surgeons were finally able to walk away from the OR. They held themselves together through the devastating news long enough to repair as much of the destruction around them as they could. The day passed in silence. There was the clanking of instruments, and the requests for them, but everything else ceased. There were no jokes, no barbs, no songs, no stories. Nothing to pass the time other than their thoughts or the work. Silent tears were shed but no attention was drawn to them. There was a moment when Hawkeye went to move on to another patient, but his body had other plans. As he started to crumple, Trapper caught him under the arm to steady him. No words were exchanged. They shared a brief, intense look which was interrupted by a nurse appearing to change Hawkeye's gloves. He found his centre and kept going. They kept on like that for hours until the last patient had received the best possible care and there was no one left to help but themselves.

Outside the air was fresh and the night was mild. It was clear that word had spread like wildfire through the camp. There was no noise accept the humming of the generator and the odd chirp from a cricket. The lights were out in all the tents. It would have been a magnificent night to sit up and stare at the stars, but the company slunk defeated from the OR to their respective quarters. From his seat on an old supply crate, Trapper observed the painfully awkward moment when Frank Burns, standing outside his new tent, Henry's old one, couldn't bring himself to so much as open the door. That night Frank and Margaret gave up on the pretense of pretending they weren't an item. She walked up to his stock still form, gingerly took his hand and lead him carefully over to her tent. Margaret and Trapper’s eyes meet, and he gives her nod as if to say, no one is judging you, find comfort where you can. She nods back her gratitude as best as she can before the both slip away. 

Trapper breathes in deeply and exhales slowly in the direction of the Dog Starred moon. It was too beautiful for this God forsaken place. He thinks that maybe Henry is on the other side and maybe this is his way of letting them know he's alright. Except he doesn't believe that at all. Henry isn't alright. He's fucking dead. Dead and buried in a watery grave in a foreign land. Never to laugh again or love again. For fuck's sake, Henry never even got the chance to meet his son... 

This realization hits MacIntyre like a punch in the throat. That poor kid... All of Trapper's parental instincts were tearing him apart from the inside. He thought about his little girls. They were all of 6 and 4 years old when he was shipped out. He wondered if they even remembered his face or the sound of his voice. He tried to remember what it felt like to carry them, make them laugh, dry their tears... there would be no one to do that for Andrew or Molly Blake. He ran a hand over his face trying as hard as he could to erase the thoughts in his head. He was agonizing so hard, he didn't hear Hawkeye trudge out of the OR dragging his feet like a zombie. He walked few yards ahead, shuffling his weary body in the direction of the pit they called home.

"You can't stay out here all night. There are snipers out there." It was the first sentence Hawkeye had uttered in hours and it was a bleak warning about how staring up at the stars could get him killed. 

Trapper heeds his words without comment. He catches up to Hawkeye in a few long strides and they continue to walk together in silence. They pass Klinger on sentry duty dressed down in his fatigues carrying his rifle. He bows his head respectfully and continues his duty. There's nothing that can be said but the change in wardrobe speaks volumes. 

They enter the Swamp in darkness and neither man makes any move towards the light switch. The door closes behind them and they just stand there. Hawkeye is the first to make a move and it's only to start removing his blood-stained scrubs. As he removes the offending reminders of death and destruction, he throws them angrily to the ground along with his blood-stained boots which bang loudly against his foot locker. Hawkeye finds the sound satisfying. He wished he had the strength to throw them farther. He approaches the still and picks up a martini glass. He would absolutely love to hear it shatter but all he does is stare at it.

"Hawk..."

"Not now Trapper."

"But Hawk..."

"No. There's nothing to say, Trap so could we please just not do this? Not tonight." Hawkeye said, his voice low and even He couldn't even bother to turn around. 

"Sure... we don't have to talk." Trapper cautiously began dressing down for the night, his eyes never leaving Hawkeye's back. When he thought it was safe, he approached him slowly resting a hand on Hawkeye's tense shoulder. Hawkeye neither leaned in or pushed away. He just continued staring down at the empty martini glass. Trapper's other hand found Hawkeye's other shoulder and he started to kneed the sorrow out of him. 

"Let me make you a drink."

Hawkeye shook his head, "I don't want a drink."

"Ya... me neither. Come sit down at least. You've been on your feet all day..."

Hawkeye shook his head again, but Trapper couldn't walk away. He wanted to. He'd had enough of this waking nightmare too. He wraps an arm around Hawkeye's chest from behind and pulls him close. Hawkeye doesn't move as Trapper presses his face into neck. Hawkeye stays motionless, but Trapper keeps pushing. He holds him closer, hand trailing down to the one connected to the martini glass and he wills it from his fingers. Only then is there some sign of life. Hawkeye keeps hold of Trapper's arm and hugs it around himself. His head falls forward, he lets out a shuddering breath and the tension eases just for a moment. 

"He gone, Trap."

Hawkeye can feel Trapper's warm breath on the back of his neck and his hold on him tighten. "I know."

"He's supposed to be home safe."

He can feel Trapper nod. "I know."

"Even getting out of here isn't a guarantee we'll ever get out of here."

Trapper swallows down hard. He's had the same trepidation. He's just not sure he wants to follow Hawkeye down this path. "I guess not."

Hawkeye finally turns in Trapper's arms. Tears stain his cheeks. His eyes search Trapper's imploringly desperate for something to console him. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" 

"We did this. We made Henry transfer back here. He should have been in Tokyo teaching his three lectures a week, frequenting bath houses, and collecting dolls. But we had to interfere. You know what you don't have to do to get home to Bloomington, Illinois from Tokyo? You don't have to fly over the Sea of Japan! We did this... I did this. It was my idea to make Radar feign sick to make Henry feel needed. This didn't have to happen, but I was selfish and made it happen."

"The hell we did."

"But Trap, we did! Henry didn't have to be here!"

"No we didn't! What the hell is wrong with you? Stop talking like that. God, what if Radar hears you say that? The kid would hang himself from the flagpole! You don't get to do this to us now. You don't get to pretend like we have any control over what's happening to us here. You're not God. We didn't start this war. We just wanted our friend back. Henry chose to come back here. That doesn't mean we somehow set his impending doom in motion. Jesus Christ, why can't you just grieve like a normal fucking person? Why does every little thing have to revolve around you?"

Unbeknownst to them, a few tent lights flicker on in the compound. Hawkeye stands there in stunned silence. His bottom lip quivers. He shoves Trapper away and storms to the opposite end of the tent, tripping over his footlocker and cursing loudly. "You think I want to make Henry's death about me? You think that making this connection is something that makes me feel good about myself! How many other things have I done here that have led to someone getting killed? How many of the kids that we patch up go back to the line only to end up dead? How many of the ones that live end up killing? How can I live with that? Henry didn't belong here... we don't belong here!"

"I know that, Hawk, but we don't have any say in it. We are just doing the best we can..."

"At how many more people's expense?"

There's the smallest knock on the door and they both stop dead. It's as if they've absorbed his skills because they know who it is before they open the door. Young Mercury has finally reappeared. 

Trapper locks eyes on Hawkeye. The surprise of a visitor seems to have scared him enough to keep him silent. Trapper looks for fierce and imposing as he harshly whispers a warning to Hawkeye, "Don't you dare say a word of this to him."

Hawkeye is still shaken but he nods his agreement. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He just feels so damn responsible and he can't shake it.

Trapper walks over to the door and there stands O'Reilly, eyes red under smudged glasses, shaking hands holding onto his teddy bear. He looks dishevelled and absolutely devastated. Trapper hopes he couldn't make out any of his and Hawk's fighting. 

"I'm sorry sirs. I know it's late, I just...I just..." Radar can't seem to get the words out and ashamed he hangs his head. 

"It's okay, Radar. C'mon in." As Trapper ushers him inside he notices Klinger watching from his post and catches a pointy nose and a pair of beady eyes peeking out from Major Houlihan's tent. He knows then that their fighting was loud enough to wake the camp. Radar heard everything.

"I'm sorry..." he keeps repeating and both Captains are absolutely horrified. Trapper leads Radar to sit down in Hawkeye's bunk as Hawkeye crosses the tent to sit next to him. Trapper crouches down on the floor try to get Radar's eyes to engage with his. No dice. Radar keeps staring at his feet, clinging to his bear but finally gets the words out. "I just got off the phone with Mrs. Blake."

"Oh God..." Hawkeye mutters, "we're the ones who are sorry Radar. That wasn't your responsibility."

"Yes sir, it was. I had to. I couldn't let her hear it from a stranger."

It's then Hawkeye realizes that Radar has talked to Lorraine Blake dozens of times before. Maybe not long and maybe not as intensely but the voice is familiar. She knows Radar and Henry were close. She knows Radar took care of her husband as much was in his power and from her husband's letters, she'd know how close they'd gotten. It by no means would have made the call easier but it was the right and courageous thing to do. That was their Radar. Hawkeye wraps an arm around his shoulders and Trapper gives Radar's forearm a gentle squeeze. 

"You did the right thing," Trapper comforted. 

Radar glances up from the ground. He looks back and forth between his friends. "You sirs were fighting."

Hawkeye recoils slowly pulling his arm away. He feels grotesque, but he still believes every word he said to Trapper. 

"No..." Trapper blatantly lies. "We're just trying to process everything. Hawk and I are fine, right Hawk?"

"Yeah...right...fine." 

Trapper shoots Hawkeye a look and Hawkeye stands up and heads to the still. "I'm gonna make you a drink Radar. You're spending the night here." 

"Oh no, I couldn't..."

"Yes, you can. Take my bunk." Hawkeye hands Radar the glass he was previously fantasizing about destroying now full of gin. He accepts it but doesn't drink. 

"Down the hatch, kid. Hopefully it helps you sleep some. If not, we'll prescribe something stronger. You need some rest." Trapper forces a kind smile. 

Radar takes a sip and makes a face that makes Trapper's smile a little more real. "What about you sirs?" 

"Don't you worry about us Radar," Hawkeye says finally giving in and swallowing a large swig of his own drink. 

"Hawk and I will share mine," Trapper adds. Both Hawkeye and Radar's eyes widen, and it takes everything for Trapper to stifle a loud laugh. 

"No funny business, I swear." Trapper reassures crossing his heart.

"There better not be," Hawkeye retorts, "I'm saving myself for marriage." 

"Really?" Trapper snorts, "Whose?" 

And there it is, a small smile on the corporal's face. He is able to relax just a little. Hawkeye reaches over and tops up Radar's drink. He wiggles the pitcher in front of Trapper's face extending the offer and he nods his acceptance. Hawkeye pours one for Trapper and hands it to him. Their fingers touch and both sets of eyes are soft and apologetic. They linger for there for the briefest moment before Hawkeye turns away and pours himself a refill. This almost feels like a regular day until Radar raises his glass. 

"To Colonel Blake..." 

Trapper turns to Hawkeye and they both raise their glasses together, "To Henry." 

They drink in pensive silence. The lights in the camp have gone dark again. Radar hands Hawkeye his glass and starts to curl up on the cot. Trapper puts down his own glass and stands up to pull the blanket over Radar. 

"Sweet dreams, kid." 

Trapper is doubtful any of them will sleep but at least Radar is settling down and most importantly, he isn't alone. He looks back at Hawkeye who is polishing off his third drink. Radar starts to doze and he's grateful. Radar is a terrific buffer, but Trapper is still worried about Hawkeye. He's knows him too well to know he isn't just going to drop this. He knows that if Hawkeye is left to his own devices, he'll obsess, and things will start to unravel worse than they already are. Trapper takes the empty glass from Hawkeye's hand and leads him towards his bunk. 

"Time for bed, Hawk."

Hawkeye complies, the alcohol having drowned the fight out of him. Trapper rolls into the cot pulling Hawkeye by the hand with him. The bunk protests under their combined mass. They struggle to get comfortable but then settle with Trapper on his back and Hawkeye on his side, face buried in Trapper's chest and his long legs entwined with his lovers. Trapper throws a blanket over the with his free hand and hugs Hawkeye close with the other. Their hands meet and tangle together. Hawkeye gives Trapper's hand a gentle squeeze and he responds with one in kind. "I'm sorry." Hawkeye mouths and Trapper isn't sure if he means for the fight or for his belief that they caused this or for pushing him away. Trapper forgives him by holding Hawkeye tighter.

A small voice from the corner of the room breaks up the apology with a simple statement, "It's nobody's fault, sirs."

No one says anything else but minutes later Trapper can feel dampness against his chest and feels the tremors of Hawkeye silently sobbing into him. He keeps quiet so not to give him away but stays sentinel until the dawn breaks holding Hawkeye close and massaging his back until he falls into a fitful unconsciousness.


	2. For Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A eulogy, a break down and a letter home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been away on a business trip for the past week so this is still a little rough. I'm excited and nervous about putting this one up. Again, lots of feelings as I try to work this one out. Let me know what you think! More to come soon!

Hawkeye stands at Father Mulcahy’s pulpit that’s been set up in the mess tent a few days before its usual Sunday appearance. He’s in his class A’s and the entire company has corralled itself into the tent for the make-shift service. He’s holding a piece of paper, but his eyes are bleary, and he can’t rightly make out the words. Trapper is seated right off to his side, prepared to jump up and cover for him if need be. He can’t believe that Hawkeye agreed to do this. And yet, he can. Hawkeye was an emotional chameleon and a performing artist after all. He’d spent the better part of the last few days pretending to be the shoulder for everyone else to cry on but then the nights would come, and he’d be a shuddering mess. The booze wasn’t helping calm him anymore and he wasn’t sleeping, even poorly. Radar had moved back into his own space. Frank had been keeping him plenty busy and he didn’t seem to mind which was one last thing to for Trapper to concern himself with. There is a hush in the tent and it is time for Hawkeye to start the eulogy. 

“I regret that we are here today more than I have ever regretted anything. Henry Blake was this unit. He was its heart. Some of us have thought of him as less, and even treated him as less, but the truth is, none of the lives we’ve saved would have stood a chance without him. He built this place from the ground up. He’s the one who not only stood with us working through days of endless surgery but at the end of it all would hear our every grievance and answer to command. He got us through every crisis, every shelling, every supply shortage with as much courage and dignity as a person could muster. Whether he was aware of it or not, Henry united us and made this band of misfits a team. 

I once had a conversation I didn’t want to have with Henry. I was crying for the first time since I arrived in Korea. I had lost a patient. One of my best friends from childhood died on my table and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The damage was too great and the demand for our help too high. Henry was trying to pull me together and he told me something he was taught at command school. At the time, the absurd image of Henry Blake sitting in some sort of an army learning annex trying to learn how to follow orders and give commands made me laugh, but he turned out to be one hell of a great commanding officer. He was real, he was honest, he was good-humoured, he was giving, he scraped and sacrificed with us to make this place as best as it could possibly be. Together we did great work and we made it through each day.

What Henry told me that day cuts deeper now. He told me there are certain rules about war. Rule number one is that young men die and number two, is that doctors can’t change rule number one. I would give anything to change rule number one. I would do anything in my power to make that fact not about our Henry. We are all in shock. We thought our goodbyes were temporary. We thought our friend was returning home to his family and to peace, to barbeques and bills and his practice and his patients. We grieve that his children won’t have the wonderful man we grew to know and love as they grow up. We grieve for his wife who has lost her partner and her best friend. We grieve for all the laughs and belts we won’t share with him. We grieve for all the things we wish we could have done differently while he was with us. 

We’ll miss you, Henry. We were already missing you, but we miss you more still and we’re sorry. I think it’s safe to say that we are all grateful to have found you here and we wish you could have made it home.”

Hawkeye slowly takes in all the faces of the crowd. They hold like this for a moment of silence that seems to last an eternity. He can feel his knees wobble and his breath hitch, but he needs to finish. “One last thing, Radar, Trapper and I are starting a college fund for the Blake children if anyone wishes to contribute. Any little bit helps. We want them to have everything Henry would have wanted for them. Thank you.”

Trapper stands to embrace Hawkeye as he walks away from the podium but instead Hawkeye makes for the door and doesn’t stop until he’s cleared the mess tent. All eyes are on MacIntyre as he follows Hawkeye but not before urging Father Mulcahy to carry on with the service. When he’s finally outside, Hawkeye is across the compound and Trapper has to break into a run to catch him. 

“Hawk!” but Pierce doesn’t slow up or look back. “Hawkeye, stop, please!” He catches him by the arm, but Hawkeye continues to pull away. “Hawk, it’s okay, it’s over.”

Pierce turns on him and there is such animal intensity in his eyes that it makes MacIntyre take a step back. “Oh no, it’s never over. This has only just begun. We’re going to die here, Trap. We are going to die here and there’s nothing we can do about it! Our lives are completely disposable, and no one cares! It’s just a game to anyone who can do anything to change it. In the meantime, we all die. First Henry, then who? Maybe me? Maybe you? Do you know what would happen to me here if I didn’t have you?” 

Trapper is acutely aware that on lookers have followed him out of the mess. He reaches out a tentative hand and asks as composed as he can, “Hawkeye, please, not here. Let’s go back home. I’ll get you something to calm your nerves. You can shut the world off for a while. I’ll stay with you. Everything will be okay, just please, not out here.”

“Home? Home, Trap? That cesspool! That’s not a home. That’s a grave! A shallow, dingy, mass grave!” 

“Hawk, please…” 

Hawkeye looks past Trapper to the crowd now watching from the mess. He sees Margaret and Frank in their dress uniforms looking at him as if he’s finally cracked. He sees Radar hanging back against the doors, trying to push curious onlookers back inside. He sees Leslie who looks like an absolute wreck and Klinger who is still dressed like he’s playing soldier. He sees the judgement and the fear and the uncertainty in all their faces and he sneers. He looks to Trapper who is begging him with everything he has to end this, and Hawkeye decides that yes, he will end this. He makes a break for it and heads in the direction of the minefield. 

He doesn’t get very far. Trapper’s football scholarship has made him adept at tracking and tackling. He lunges at Hawkeye’s legs and takes him down hard. There’s a struggle and more screaming from Hawkeye. The MP’s hear it and they are there breaking them up and dragging Pierce to his feet. They think it’s desertion. Trapper begs them to bring Hawkeye back to the Swamp and let him take care of him. He blames the grief and the booze and anything else he can come up with. Frank and Margaret are there to intercede and manage to talk the MP’s into listening to MacIntyre, but Hawkeye is still writhing and spitting in anger. 

“Who are you to decide what’s best for me? If want to end it all now instead of someone else doing it for me later, why the fuck shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason!”

MacIntyre looks absolutely destroyed. He doesn’t know what to say or do anymore. He stares into Hawkeye’s eyes and they are angry and defiant. There is dirt on his face and a trickle of blood running from a cut on his chin. He wants to fix it. He wants to fix everything, but he doesn’t know how. The reason he has to give could get them both arrested and dishonourably discharged. He hopes that he can get through with something subtle and meaningful. He reaches out again, his hand lingering over Hawkeye’s dog tags. “Because you make this place bearable.” 

It seems to work for the time being. Hawkeye settles down. The tears well in his eyes and he looks defeated. 

“This is all just a misunderstanding, right Pierce?” Frank encourages. He’s not good at conflict and he can’t afford to be another surgeon short, especially their chief surgeon.

Hawkeye snivels and cooperates, “Right.”

“MacIntyre, see Pierce back to his tent. Major, I’m prescribing him pentobarbital, please see that it is administered. Captain put this man to bed and then meet me in my office.” 

Feigning military correctness, Trapper let’s out a, “Yes, sir.” Before taking Hawkeye’s arm and hurriedly walking him towards the swamp. The crowd starts to thin. He feels relieved and still not. They were out of a jam, but this was going to get worse before it got better. 

Once back in their quarters they remain silent. Trapper sits Hawkeye down and takes a look at the cut on his face. He gets his towel and dips in the helmet they kept full of water dangling by the stove. He cleans Hawkeye’s face and the scrapes on his hands. He kneels in front of him and notices that the leg of his dress pants were torn and that he had a nasty wound there as well. He tears the pant leg open further and grabs his medical kit to treat it. Hawkeye flinches when Trapper pours alcohol on it. Their eyes meet. “Us, Hawk. You and me. That’s why you shouldn’t go do something stupid like get yourself killed or court marshalled or put away for life. Please, keep it together for us.”

There isn’t an opportunity to respond as Major Houlihan appears at the door with the drugs to knock Hawkeye out. He takes them orally with a shot of gin and lays back in his bunk not saying anything. She says she’ll back to check on him later and Trapper is grateful for her kindness. He walks her back to the door and says, “I’m gonna stay with him until I’m sure he’s out. Frank manage to get everything under control?”

She nods, “For the time being. MacIntyre, is there anything I should know?”

Trapper shrugs, “I think you know most of it already. You know Hawkeye. He manic on a good day and this has been a very bad day. A very bad couples of days.”

Margaret nods. She understands. Although she and Henry had their differences, she could respect the closeness he shared with his surgeons. She’d never admit it but a part of her was jealous that she didn’t have the same sort of repour with her nurses. “Major Burns will be in his office when you are ready.”

“Thank you, Major.”

When she’s gone Trapper goes and sits in the chair next to Hawkeye’s bunk. Hawkeye is listless, but his eyes are open wide, and he looks small and broken. Trapper takes his hand and holds it in his lap. He takes a deep breath and settles in studying Hawkeye’s slender fingers. He traces the lines on his palm and then affectionately massages each finger. 

From his place on the bed, Hawkeye sniffles and cries quietly to himself. Trapper is too exhausted to even acknowledge it. He just keeps on with his ministrations until the sniffles turn into soft snores. He stays a while longer listening to the sounds of the camp outside. He hears whispers and the odd laugh. He feels self-conscious and terrible for likely ruining Henry’s service. This place. This fucking place. All of this and now he has to go explain as much of it as he can to Frank and ask for his help. God help him. 

…………..

“The answer is no, MacIntyre.”

“Ah c’mon Frank, you saw what he was like back there. Hawkeye needs some R&R or he’s going to crack. I’m running out of ideas here. I don’t know how to take care of him when he’s like this. Let me take him to Tokyo for a few days. We’ll hop right back on the plane at the first word of any trouble.” Trapper was relentless but so was Frank. 

“I’m already down one surgeon. I wouldn’t be very good at this if I put myself in the position where I was down three. Besides, you just said you can’t take care of him. Why would it be any different in Tokyo? I can’t have you both running amok all over the orient disgracing this unit’s reputation. What Pierce really needs it a psychiatrist.” Frank thought he was being haughty, but Trapper’s eyes light up.

“Yes, Sidney, I’ll call Sidney. Maybe he can come here for a few days. Would that be alright by you, Frank?”

Frank nods and mumbles something indistinguishable before calling Radar into the room. “Corporal, could you call the R&R centre in Tokyo…

“Yessir, I have the R&R centre on the line, they are just paging Doctor Freedman.” Radar finishes and Frank sneers. 

“If you think that impresses me than you are sorely mistaken, “Frank chastises. 

Radar blinks, deadpan, “I’m not here to impress you sir.” Trapper bites his lower lip to keep from smiling. He’s proud that Radar has no trouble holding his own with Ferret Face. He’s got the phone in his ear and he’s responding to the voice on the other side. “Ya, what’s that? He is. Okay, great! Thanks!” Radar takes the bag off his shoulder and passes it to Trapper who throws it over his own and holds the ringer to his ear. 

“Hey! Sidney! John MacIntyre from the 4077… Thanks for the condolences Sidney, that means a lot. That’s actually why I’m calling. It’s Hawkeye… he’s not handling the loss so well…” Trapper is very wary of saying anything more in front of Frank. Even still he walks to the corner of the room for any inch of privacy he can attain. Sidney is talking about shock and survivor’s guilt and stress and Trapper nods. He’d already figured as much but Sidney would be so much easier for Hawkeye to talk to. “Anyway, we were wondering if you were available for a house call… oh, no… no, I understand. I have no doubt that you’re dance card is jam packed…” Trapper looks over to Frank and has another idea, “What if I can get him to you? Would you be able to squeeze him in?” Frank is watching him suspiciously as he’s nodding and suddenly smiling. “You could?” Trapper raises his eyebrows at Frank as to ask permission one final time and Frank rolls his eyes and waves a dismissive hand at him. MacIntyre takes that as a yes and continues, “Ya, I just got the okay. Thanks Sid! You’re a life saver! I’ll be in touch when I have the travel details. Thanks, I will… Talk to you soon.” Sighing with relief, Trapper hands the phone back to Radar. “Two seats on your next chopper out of here, Radar!”

“One.”

Trapper stops, “Excuse me?”

“One seat, MacIntyre. Pierce can go. You have to stay. I told you, I’m not running this place three surgeons short. Doctor Freedman can look after Pierce while he’s there and hopefully we can have him well and back here in a few days’ time.” 

There isn’t much left to say. MacIntyre knows he’s pushed his luck already but he is crestfallen. He doesn’t want to send Hawkeye anywhere alone. He knows this is just going to lead to another fight. It feels wrong, but he doesn’t seem to have any other choice. He nods futilely, and heads for the door, “Thanks Frank.”

………………..

It’s late afternoon and it’s been hours since Hawkeye was dosed. Trapper sits next to his sleeping form and checks his pulse. Trapper had managed to get a little sleep and something small to eat. If things were unappetising before, they were putrid now. He was finally beginning to process the events of the past few days and feel it for himself. He felt heavy, like someone had filled his limbs with sand. He watched the man he’d fallen hard for sleep peacefully. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him, but it was daylight and people had been coming and going from the Swamp all day to check on him. It wasn’t a risk he could take but it took him everything he had not to. 

Radar had arranged transport out for Hawkeye in the morning. Sidney would meet him at the Tokyo airbase and treat him at the R&R centre until he saw fit to send him back. Everything would be fine. Except nothing felt fine. Everything felt broken. 

He couldn’t do this to himself. He wouldn’t. He needed to be strong in order to get things back on track. Hawkeye would go to Tokyo and get the rest and care Trapper couldn’t provide him and when he got back they would continue being them. They would make their plans and follow through with them because it was what both of them wanted more than anything. 

Trapper was resolute in this. The more he thought on it, the more he reasoned that he shouldn’t wait for Hawkeye to go or come back. He needed to start now. It would give himself something to do to make him feel less despondent. He knows what he’s been putting off and now is as good a time as any. He begins searching the ground around Hawkeye’s bunk for a pad of paper. He’s almost always writing something. He finds it tucked just underneath the bed with a pencil to boot. There are scribbles on the first page in Hawkeye’s messy script and it makes him smile. He sits back in the chair next to Hawkeye and watches him nuzzle into his pillow. This is it. This is what he wants come what may. 

MacIntyre starts writing.

Dear Louise, 

Things here have been more awful than usual lately. Our commanding officer was killed a few days ago on his way home. He leaves behind his wife and two young children. I can’t help but picture our girls every time I think of their loss. I feel it deep in my guts. The camp is pulling itself up by its bootstraps to carry on without him, but it’s been a devastating loss to work through. There is no comfort to be found anywhere. Even the idea of coming home is ruined because getting your walking papers isn’t even the promise of getting their alive. It makes me realise how lucky I’ve been so far and that I might not always have such good fortune.

There is something I’ve been putting off for a long time. If you’re honest with yourself, it is likely something you’ve been putting off too. The war has put a lot of things in perspective for me. This loss has in particular. Our time here is short and we have to make the most of it that we can. You and I were never meant to be and I’m an absolute coward for taking so long to talk to you about it. I’ve wasted your time. I’ve been a liar and cheat. I’ve taken advantage of your forgiving nature and allowed myself to do a lot of wrong under the guise of doing one thing right. You deserve to be loved by someone who can love you fully. Someone who will be faithful and generous and there for you and the girls. I will always do my best to be to that, but I know that I’m inadequate in so many ways. I say this because I really don’t know if I am going to make it back, and if I do, will I be a strong enough man to get past the things I’ve seen and done? 

I’ve found someone here. Someone I never expected or even tried to find. We are both damaged beyond repair but maybe that’s a good thing. We can put ourselves back together instead of forcing our madness onto others. We can love the worst and the best in each other. They see me for all the things I’ve always been afraid to share about myself and I can’t live my life without that love. 

We need to file for divorce. You can have whatever you want. I’m not asking for anything. Not even your forgiveness this time. Kathy and Becky are better off with you. I love them, and I hope that you will still allow me to be a part of their lives if I ever make it home. Please understand that there is nothing either one of us could have done differently to avoid this. It just isn’t meant to be. 

Give all my love to the girls. Tell them their daddy misses them more than they could ever imagine and know that they are always in my thoughts. 

I am sorry, Louise. For everything. 

John

 

It all came out so much easier than he ever thought it would. He read it over once, then twice and then a third time. This was right. This was good. He scrambled around the room to find an envelope. He gave up knowing that he could find one in Radar’s office. If he got their quick enough, he could get the letter on the next chopper out and then when Hawkeye wakes up he would have some good news. He looked down at Hawkeye and thought about everything they’d been through and imagined everything to come. Then he smiled and ran out the Swamp doors feeling a weight lifted off his soul.


	3. Going All In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapper breaks two pieces of important news to Hawkeye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I couldn't sleep so these two don't get to either. The rating had to change a little bit. You'll see why. Thank you for reading! Leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Night time had fallen and there was a subtle stirring in the cot next to his. It was only a matter of time now. Trapper had watched his letter go into the satchel of the chopper pilot delivering it to Seoul. Ever since he'd handed it off he'd been restlessly waiting for Hawkeye to wake up. He'd tried reading but he ran out of material pretty fast. Not many articles in Hawkeye's nudist magazines. He tried writing out what he was going to tell Hawkeye, but he found that he didn't have the fortitude for writing two emotionally charged letters in one day. He'd given up and taken to listening to the radio. Something soothing and sad was playing. He didn't recognize it, but it didn't matter. It was serving its purpose. He hears a yawn then a soft little groan. There's some more stirring and then a raspy, "Trap?"

"I'm here, Hawk."

Hawkeye blinks, his eyes adjusting to Trapper's bedside light. He peers around the room and notices all the tent flaps have been closed. There are a few small sniffles and another yawn. "What time is it?"

"A quarter past ten."

"Trap...what happened?"

Now that was a loaded question if he ever heard one. He waited a moment hoping the answer would come to Pierce on his own but all there was silence. "Henry's plane went down... you gave the eulogy this morning...you sort of...lost it after that..."

"Oh." Trapper waited for the reality to come flooding back. Hawkeye is rubbing his eyes and wrinkling his face trying to work it all out. He's fighting the meds and the exhaustion. Then there it is. A sharp intake of breath, "Oh god..."

"It'll be okay." Trapper moves to be at Hawkeye's bedside. Kneeling down next to him, he takes his head into his hands, fingers massaging his scalp. "I'm going to take care of you and we're going to get through this."

Hawkeye's eyes are glistening pools as he nods his understanding. Trapper plants a firm kiss to his forehead and they stare at each other. Hawkeye caresses his nose along Trapper's which soon lures MacIntyre's lips to his. It's their first kiss since Radar uttered those tragic words and they both revel in the sensation, the taste and the comfort of each other. Hawkeye's fingers reach Trapper's neck and he pulls him in deeper relishing the dance of tongues, lips and teeth. Trapper breathes Hawkeye in deeply and gives the slightest tug as he grabs a first full of his raven hair. The kiss slows and then with a few tender nips at Hawkeye's bottom lip, Trapper opens his eyes and traces that same lip with his thumb. Hawkeye smiles a small smile but it's real and it's for him and it makes him feel like they can get back on track. 

"Hawk, we need to talk about what happened. Are you up to that?"

Hawkeye shrugs, "I honestly don't know... What is there to say? I guess I couldn't take it... I was scared before, about being here, even if I got good at hiding it, but now...I'm terrified. Maybe it's because when I got here, I didn't have anything to lose. My draft board took it all away. But now I have you and the idea of losing you and not making it out of here... the way Henry went... how scared and alone he must have felt...I just want to make it go away."

Trapper rests his forehead against his. "I know. But there's no making it go away. We lost him and it's something we just have to learn how to live with." Hawkeye nods and squeezes Trapper's hand. He takes a deep shuddering breath and releases it slowly. "Frank has offered to give you some leave so you can cool down and get your head straight."

"Our Frank?" Hawkeye tilts his head and raises his eye brows looking suspicious. "Couldn't be."

"Wait for it, this next part will sound more like him. I begged him to let me go with you, but he said no dice. Says he can't afford to be down three surgeons."

"That may be the smartest decision Frank's ever made... he's clearly in a state of shock. Maybe we could send him away instead and we can stay here."

"Nah, you need a rest Hawk..." Trapper tries his best to word the next part very carefully. "Sidney's going to meet you at the airport in Tokyo. Maybe you can get a poker game going." Then there's that look again, and Trapper knows he can see right through him. "You could hit the spas, maybe take in a show..."

"What does Sidney think is wrong with me?"

"Nothing Hawk. He just wants to talk to you."

"Because you asked him too..."

"Because you tried to run into a minefield..."

"I wasn't really..."

"It sure felt like you were... C'mon, three days of R&R in Tokyo... all you have to do is talk to Sidney for a few minutes. Then you can do whatever you want."

"Without you..."

"It's only three days..."

"In Tokyo... flying to Tokyo..."

Trapper winced. That hadn't gone so well for Henry. "I know and I'm sorry, but I don't know how else to help you."

Hawkeye knew he didn't have much of a choice in the matter, but he still felt uneasy. He swallows down hard choking out any reservations he has. He would do it for Trapper because Trapper loved him and only wanted what was best for him. "When do I leave?"

"First thing."

"Oh."

Trapper hesitates but he pushes on knowing his next piece of information would make up for the first part. "I did something else while you were out. Something important for us. I wrote Louise. I asked for a divorce."

Hawkeye's eyes go wide. He blinks a few times and shakes his head. "Could you repeat that for the people in the back?" 

"I'm asking for a divorce."

Hawkeye offers a coy uncertain smile, "Let me see the letter..."

"It's gone."

"What?"

"I put it on a chopper. It's probably in Seoul by now." 

"Trapper, I love you so please don't take this the wrong way, but I don't see much difference between mailing that letter and running into a minefield. You're going to lose everything."

"Not the most important thing. Not you."

"What about your girls?"

"Louise isn't cruel. We'll work it out. I'll always be a part of their lives."

"You seem pretty confident."

"I have a good hand."

"You're always too quick to go all in, Trapper John MacIntyre."

"It's easy when I have an ace up my sleeve." 

Hawkeye cringes, "That's awful."

"It's true though."

They share a smile that's sweet and altogether too sappy for Hawkeye to maintain. He laughs and ask, "So what now them?" 

"The night is ours. Are you hungry? I haven't seen you eat it days."

Hawkeye shakes his head. "Not really."

Trapper looks around the Swamp and it seems altogether too big and too empty. First Jones was transferred to the 8063rd, now Henry is gone, and Frank’s moved out. It's the first time they've ever been two lone swamp rats. He knew this would be short lived knowing full well that a replacement surgeon would be arriving any day now. Something rhythmic and a little bluesy with a strong downbeat comes on the radio. Trapper grins devilishly. He stands up off the ground, brushes himself off and reaches out a hand to Pierce. "Dance with me..." Hawkeye covers his face with his hands sheepishly. He's blushing so hard that it makes Trapper let out a boisterous belly laugh. "Don't make me come get you..."

Hawkeye concedes, smiling so hard his face hurts. He's having trouble looking Trapper in the eye without giggling. When he finally gets out of bed he realizes he's only in his boxers and a t-shirt. "Do you usually make a habit out of undressing unconscious men?"

Trapper smirks. He knows Hawkeye is just trying to make him blush back. He can tell it's working as the heat rises up his neck and cheeks. "Just ones who look as cute as you."

Hawkeye fumbles a little standing up too fast. He's still groggy and his legs are unsteady. He may be awake, but his body isn't quite there yet. Trapper catches him around the waist and holds him close. "I got you."

"You sure do." Hawkeye steadies himself as best he can. He leans into MacIntyre wrapping his arms around his neck and allowing his head to fall on one of his broad shoulders. There's warm breath teasing MacIntyre’s neck and he can feel Hawkeye's nose nuzzling into his curls. He sighs and closes his eyes resting his cheek against Pierce's. As they start to sway gently to the music, he runs his hands up Hawkeye's back and then deftly rakes his fingertips back down to his backside where he squeezes firmly. His hands continue to wander this time seeking the skin beneath his t-shirt. Hawkeye takes a deep breath and it comes back out as a satisfied hum. His hands comb their way into MacIntyre's hair. His fingers unfurl a curl and he smiles as he watches it spring back into place. He repeats this over and over again until Trapper's eyes catch his. They lock for a moment, blue and hazel, pupils dilated, pulses quickening. Trapper presses his forehead against Hawk's and closes his eyes. When he opens them, all he sees is black lashes and blue pools. They are saying so much without saying anything at all. He sees trust and passion and maybe a little fear. Little does he know his own eyes are mirroring the same emotions back. 

Trapper leans in for a ghost of a kiss. Their lips barely meet but it's enough to almost knock him over. He leans in again, but this time Hawkeye's eager lips won't let his escape so easily. He's finally hungry but it's not for the sustenance food can give him. His teeth gently catch Trapper's bottom lip and Trapper breath hitches. Tongues search each other out and they slake across one other thirsty for more. 

When they break apart, Trapper pulls Hawkeye's shirt over his head before crushing their lips together again. Hawkeye's hands are pulling at his curls urging him on as MacIntyre's hands sink into his backside again. He moans as the action brings their hips together in exquisite friction. Trapper rocks against him again and catches his bottom lip in his teeth as Hawkeye whimpers. He makes his way to the sensitive spot on Hawkeye's neck and latches himself there greedily. Hawkeye smells like salt water and a hint of that sweet mandarin soap they brought back from Tokyo on their last leave. The memory of hour long baths, steamy showers and making love until they couldn't move enter his head and he is flush with need. Trapper stops everything holding Hawkeye's face in his hand. Their lips graze at each other again and again but Trapper pulls away to whisper, "the door..."

Hawkeye nods with perfect understanding as Trapper grabs Hawkeye's footlocker and then his own and stacks them in front of the door. It isn't a perfect system but it's something to help warn them of outside intrusion. As Trapper turns around, he takes in a very exposed and aroused Hawkeye. He doesn't get to see him like this nearly often enough. His hair is disheveled, his face flushed, the scratch marks from his lustful attentions across his pale torso, his arousal straining desperately to be released from the confines of his boxers. Trapper could never feel this undone by anyone else. He grins and feels a clenching in his chest. His nerves are on fire. Not only that but he finds it's making him almost nervous. This feeling evaporates into nothingness as Hawkeye licks his lips and slowly slides his shorts down past his hips. Once they get to his feet he playfully kicks them at Trapper who catches them out of the air and throws them back at him. Hawkeye laughs, and Trapper follows suit as he peels off his own shirt and flings it at Hawkeye's nakedness. He dodges the garment but can't escape Trapper as he goes in for a gentle hold. They struggle playfully until they are face to face again laughing madly. The flesh of their chests pressing together, and the jangle of their dog tags slows their giddiness. Trapper takes in the scrape from earlier oh Hawkeye's chin. He wonders if his knee hurts and tries to figure out the logistics of doing this in the Swamp without hurting Hawkeye. While he's drifted, Hawkeye's dexterous fingers are uncinching Trapper's belt. One hand is undoing the buckle while the other is caressing his swollen member through the fabric of his pants. A groan escapes him and Hawkeye smiles at his victory. Moments later he is pushing Trapper's trousers and shorts down and off his muscular legs. Hawkeye allows himself to ogle the fine specimen that is John Francis Xavier MacIntyre. He wants to do so many things to him and have them done to him back. They move back together slowly as if they are about to continue dancing. Hawkeye's head finds Trapper's neck, Trapper's arms pull Hawkeye in close, they move together again but this time there's heat and friction as they cling to each other. Hawkeye is brushing small kisses to Trapper's ear and Trapper swears and his hips buck as Hawkeye takes the lobe into his mouth. Hawkeye thrusts in turn and lifts his leg around Trapper's hip to get more leverage. Trapper lifts him up as best as he can and Hawkeye wraps both legs around his waist. Their mouths are devouring each other and Trapper is struggling for balance as he rocks Hawkeye against him. They’re both holding on so tight that they are leaving bruises. Trapper can't help but feel like Hawkeye is trying to crawl inside him and he knew he'd let him if he could. Trapper manages to get them near his bunk and he does his best to lower Hawkeye down carefully. Those eyes are burning into him again and it sends a shiver through his body. As he lowered himself on top of Hawkeye he'd never been so certain of having made the right decision in his life. 

"I fucking love you," the words come out of Trapper's mouth the instant he thinks them. He is overcome and overwhelmed, exhausted and elated. 

Hawkeye pulls him down, so their noses are touching, and their lips are whispering against each other. "I love you too." 

In an instant they are kissing and caressing again, and Trapper could swear that he could see the life he envisioned for them on the other side of all this becoming a reality. They would get out of here together; build a home, a practice and a life that was all their own. They would make people's lives better and they would always have each other to come home to. He bet everything on it and he'd do it again in a heartbeat. 

Hawkeye's hand snakes between them and is stroking Trapper's substantial girth all the while whispering delicious sin in his ear. Trapper returns the favour as best he can in the confines of the small space but decides he has a better method of sating his lovers desires. Trapper lifts his weight off of Hawkeye and encourages him to roll over. Hawkeye grins and stretches out like a cat with this backside in the air. He wrinkles his nose as his wounded knee rubs against the mattress, but the pain dulls as he turns to watch Trapper spread the surgical lubricant he's fished from his medics bag across Hawkeye’s crevasse and over his own throbbing member. He prepares Hawkeye as tenderly and teasingly as he can. Hawkeye is writhing and pushing himself onto Trapper's skillful fingers. They lock eyes again. Hawkeye is panting and biting his bottom lip. He nods his now desperate consent and Trapper gently lines himself up and pushes forward carefully. 

Everything begins to blur together after that. Trapper's hips roll slowly, cautiously as he waits for Hawkeye to feel comfortable meeting him with resistance. Once he feels Hawk pushing back into him, he allows himself to sink forward. He trails kisses and bites up and down Pierce's back all the while thrusting until he sees stars. He uses his free hand to stroke Hawkeye's cock in rhythm with his thrusts. Everything is slick and wet with sweat and they are both writhing together completely synchronized. Hawkeye chokes out his orgasm into a pillow, cursing and tensing and rocking desperately. Trapper keeps coaxing him until he's empty and breathless. Hawkeye turns his wanton face and bruised lips towards MacIntyre. The expression on his face sends Trapper over the edge. He thrusts wildly, and Hawkeye rides it out with him until they are both one puddled mass of flesh. They stay connected and Trapper is covering Hawkeye's shoulders with grateful kisses. They catch their breath and quietly revel in their union. When Hawkeye's knees can't take it anymore, he rolls over onto his side. Trapper curls up behind him and wraps his now tired, trembling arms around Pierce's waist. He buries his face in the back of his neck and hears Hawkeye sighing his contentment. 

They lay in comfortable bliss for a few minutes. Outside the tent the camp is silent except for a lone cricket chirping. The frequency of the radio was lost and turned into a low droning static. Reaching out a slender arm, Hawkeye shuts it off and reaches for a discarded shirt to wipe himself off with. He offers it to Trapper who follows suit before tossing it back on the floor. 

"You're one hell of a dancer," Hawkeye laughs and he can feel Trapper's chest bounce against his back. 

"So that's what you call that," he mumbles back lips busy tasting the soft skin at the base of Hawkeye's neck.

"Well, at least the first part..." 

Trapper hugs him closer. "We are getting pretty damn good at this, aren't we? I didn't realize it could get better over time...you keep me on my toes."

Hawkeye considers this for a moment. He shifts doing his best to face Trapper and smiles cheekily, "You keep me curling mine."

"I mean it."

"I know. So do I." Hawkeye looks serious. He hesitates and then continues with, "Promise me you won't see any other doctors while I'm gone..."

Trapper knows he's hiding his fears in a joke and he dutifully crosses his heart and rolls with it. "I promise no doctors...or doctors wives... or nurses. I’ll wait for you. Only you." 

"Not even if a tall, strapping, built blonde were to come along?" Hawkeye nudges.

Trapper rolls his eyes, "Not my type. But if you can find me something in a tall, gangly wise ass with bright blue eyes and the most kissable lips, I might consider it." Hawkeye uses those same lips to seal the promise with Trapper. When he pulls away he looks pensive and a little sad. "It'll be okay, Hawk. It's just three days and I'll miss the hell out of you, but I need you to be well and whole. I love you too much to watch you stay here and get worse." He kisses Hawkeye's brow and the tip of his nose before hugging him to his chest. Hawkeye nods reluctantly. They are quiet again. Trapper closes his eyes slowly being lured into the abyss by the rise and fall of Hawkeye's breathing. 

"Do you think Henry knew?" Pierce almost whispers his restless hands fidgeting with Trapper's dog tags.

"Knew what?"

"About us." 

Trapper lets out a small chuckle, "Our Henry?" 

"Ya... I mean, say what you will, but he never tried to separate us... we always got our leave together, we almost always worked the same shifts..."

"I think that had more to do with Radar," MacIntyre reasoned. 

"Maybe... maybe not... Do you think he would have supported us?" 

"Henry did support us, Hawk, at every turn and I don't think that anything would ever change that." 

Hawkeye clings to that comforting thought as he quietly runs through the events of the past few days. He thinks about their fights and their promise to one another. He thinks about Henry's final moments and pictures Louise MacIntyre reading the words Trapper wrote to her. He thinks about how everyone is doing their best to hold it together while he's falling apart. Hawkeye is still shocked and scared as he holds tightly to Trapper throughout the night. Neither sleep much, drifting in and out of lightly sleeping and lazily loving one another until the sun begins to rise and it’s time to prepare for Hawkeye's departure.


	4. Don't Do Anything I Wouldn't Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye departs the 4077 on his way to Tokyo. Trapper attempts to boost morale. Everything changes in an instant.

Rising at the crack of dawn, Pierce and MacIntyre shower, dress and prepare for the day ahead. They remain relatively subdued neither having slept much. Hawkeye has his duffel bag on his cot and is rifling around to find clean socks for his trip. It used to be so much easier when he could just pilfer from Frank. Trapper throws him a few pairs of his and Hawkeye smiles fondly at all the obvious surgical stitching Trapper's darned into them, trying to make them last. He feels intense gratitude. 

"I'll pick you up some new ones while I'm gone."

Now Trapper is smiling, "You don't have to."

"I want to."

He doesn't want to leave. He doesn't see how being away from the only person keeping him sane would fix his fears, but he also feels guilty and selfish and wants to do anything he can to make it up to his partner. 

Trapper looks exhausted. His eyes are red and there are dark creases under them. He hadn't shaved in days which admittedly Hawkeye enjoys but it was very out of character. The more Hawkeye thought about it, the more he realized, he'd never seen Trapper grieve, or cry or get really angry except for at him. Hawkeye thought it was probably his fault that he couldn't freely express the pain he must be feeling. Trapper was putting on a brave face for his benefit. He was protecting him. So Hawkeye would go. He would give the man he loved a much-needed break from always looking after him. 

Hawkeye folds up his favorite Hawaiian shirt as Trapper wraps his arms around him from behind. His nose is in Pierce's wet hair breathing him in deeply. Hawkeye hugs the arms around him tightly. He could get used to not having to share the Swamp anymore. As he turns his head, his cheek absorbs a kiss from MacIntyre who then guides Hawkeye's lips to his. It feels so good it almost hurts. When he opens his eyes, Hawkeye can't help notice a sadness in Trapper. He forces a smile, but he can't help but feel it too. Neither of them are ready for this.

There's a small rap on the door and then a pause. Trapper drops another small kiss on the back of Hawkeye's head before stepping away and giving Radar the okay to come inside. 

"Good morning sirs." Radar enters holding his clipboard. They know he's been up since dawn as well. Radar knows no other way than to just keep working. Nothing about him is screaming that he's in pain save one almost unnoticeable detail. Henry's father's thermometer is sticking ever so slightly out of his breast pocket. Radar catches Hawkeye noticing it and abruptly redirects his focus. "Captain Pierce, your jeep is waiting for you in the compound."

Hawkeye nods, "Thank you Radar. I just need another minute." 

"Yes sir," and he's gone again. Hawkeye wonders if maybe Radar needs this leave more than him. He feels incredibly guilty again and hangs his head. He keeps moving in spite of all his reasons not too. If Radar can do it, so can he. 

Trapper is watching his every move. At first, Hawkeye thinks he's being analyzed but it's more like he's being committed to memory. He sees it then. The subtle gleam  
in MacIntyre's eyes. He's a wreck too. Hawkeye ignores it long enough to pull himself together and finish packing. "I guess that's everything..."

Trapper shuffles his feet, "You don't want to leave the driver waiting..." 

"No...I guess not." Hawkeye forces another smile, but his brow furrows and it wilts off his face. 

"C'mere..." Trapper whispers and Hawkeye folds into his arms like a lousy poker hand. "You take care of yourself. Let us know when you get in and just let yourself relax, okay?" He follows the familiar and loving pattern of kissing Hawkeye's forehead, his nose and then his lips. They savour it for just second not daring to push it a second longer. "I'll keep a light burning..."

Hawkeye smiles a real smile, "That's my line."

Trapper offers a small laugh and a smile as he picks up Hawkeye's bag and carries it to the jeep. Pierce trails behind. Outside the confines of the Swamp, Frank, Margaret and Radar are waiting to send him off. It feels strange and staged. 

"While you’re on leave, don't forget you’re a representative of the 4077, Pierce," Frank lectures.

"Yes father." Hawkeye gives Frank the side eye. 

"He's serious. We don't want to hear about any conduct unbecoming of an officer. This is the Major's reputation on the line," Margaret chastises as if it's somehow worked before. 

"Yes mother." He hops unenthusiastically into the back of the jeep. They continue to bark at him, but Hawkeye isn't listening. He's watching Trapper watch him. He already feels like he's miles away. MacIntyre stands next to the jeep and rests a hand on Hawkeye's shoulder. He squeezes it and pats him on the back. "Be safe and come home soon." 

Hawkeye nods. He hates playing things casual in front of everyone especially when all he wants to do is jump out of the jeep and crawl into MacIntyre's arms. Last night would have to make due for a while but that doesn't stop his eyes from pleading with Trapper to do something to comfort him. He doesn't disappoint. When MacIntyre leans into the jeep, Hawkeye meets him halfway, kneeling on the seat and reaching his arms out. They embrace and it's different from before, more familial and appropriate, but its contact and connection. Trapper squeezes him tight before letting Hawkeye go and as he does, unbeknownst to anyone but Pierce, he drops a small piece of paper onto the seat. Hawkeye gives him his best smile and Trapper responds with a subtle wink. 

"Be good. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Hawkeye smirks, "That certainly leaves my options open." He sighs and with a false bravado orders the driver onwards. The jeeps pulls away from the compound, but Hawkeye keeps his eyes locked on Trapper until his figure is a small blur on the horizon. He lets go of the breath he'd been holding and some of the tension releases from his body. The first hard part was over. In his hand he's clutching to the crumpled piece of paper Trapper dropped for him. It doesn't matter what it says. He's just so elated that MacIntyre knew he'd need something more to see him through. He knows he going to need this later and he tucks the paper into his breast pocket for safe keeping. He holds his hand over it like it's still a connection to Trapper. He closes his eyes and lets the warmth of the sun hit him in the face. The breeze in his hair feels refreshing and cool. Hawkeye thinks maybe he can do this and that feeling doesn't waiver until he gets out of the jeep and is standing in front of the transport carrier to Japan. 

……

 

Hawkeye had been waiting at the airfield for almost an hour before he heard his name called. He’d been practically climbing the walls of the waiting area, pacing back and forth to the desk, asking every ten minutes when they’d be boarding. A sergeant with a clipboard gestures him towards a small plane fueling up on the dirt run way. With trembling hands he picks up his bag and starts to make his way over. There is hesitation and he laughs at himself. He's made this trip plenty of times without ever giving it a second thought. He realizes he was never alone before now. 

He observes the plane's sturdy wings and propellers. He draws in a deep breath and takes in the sleek fuselage but then he freezes. Eyes wide and body shaking, he stops and takes stock of himself. It's nothing. He’s fine. It’s a scratch. Maybe a dent. But Hawkeye knows he's kidding himself. He'd recognize a bullet hole anywhere and there one was, right below the cargo hatch, glaring back at him. He feels weak in the knees. How easy would it be to shoot a plane's gas tank? Or blow off a propeller? How would it feel free falling to his imminent death? Or if the fall and the flames didn't kill him, to struggle and drown in a foreign sea? Hawkeye's mind was crying out, but he couldn't find his voice. He could barely breath. His name was called again but this time by a different man standing adjacent to the plane. He was being waved over, but he couldn't move. Droplets of sweat were forming on his brow and his vision was starting to blur. Before he knew it, Hawkeye was on the ground. He opens his eyes and he's surrounded by strangers trying to rouse him and find out what the problem is. He vaguely remembers the sergeant with the clipboard which brings him right back to the airfield and the plane and the bullet hole and the image of a fiery crash and Henry's battered body sinking into the sea wearing the new suit Trapper had bought for him. Hawkeye sits up fast. Too fast. Falters. Hitting the ground hard. He shakes it off grabbing onto his duffel bag for support. Then he is on his feet again this time running. To where he has no idea. But he can't be here now. He can't do this. He thought he could, but he can’t, and he needs to escape before this fear eats him alive. These people can't help him and there certainly isn't anything Sidney could say to him that would fix this feeling of utter hopelessness and despair. He feels the bile rise and burn his esophagus. There is nothing in Tokyo worth getting on that plane for. Nothing. 

He thinks about Trapper and how much this would disappoint him, and he can't stand it. He can't go forward and he can't go back. So he just keeps running until he's far away from the airbase and the screaming in his head begins to quiet. For a time he thinks he's being followed but he knows checking will only slow him down. When no one catches up to him after a few miles, he stops to ease the burning in his lungs and the slamming of his heart beat. He falls with his back behind the wall of a run-down shack. He thinks maybe he'll stay here until he can catch his breath, but an old Korean man shows up in the doorway yelling something Hawkeye can't understand and even though he's holding up his hands in surrender the barrage of anger doesn't cease. Hawkeye picks up his gear and keeps moving more aware than before that he has no idea where he is, whose territory he's in or how to get back. A sob escapes his lips, but he swallows the rest down. He doesn't get to be sad anymore he decides. He doesn't need anyone's help. He can survive these three days, and no one needs to know that he didn't do exactly what was expected of him. He just needed a place to hunker down and forget for a while. 

He walks for over an hour past fields and farms, past villages and abandoned huts until things start to get a more contemporary and city-like and after a while longer he comes across something familiar. Somewhere he's been once or twice before. Somewhere he could easily hole up for a couple of days without being recognized. It was the Pink Pagoda. He felt a sigh of relief flood his body as he hurried towards it. Out front there were a few B girls in silk robes smoking cigarettes. One of them calls out, "Hey Joe, what do you know?" But he just keeps moving past them, paying them no mind, like they were a part of the architecture. He blew by the front desk and didn't stop until he was standing in front of the bar. "Three of the strongest thing you got," Hawkeye demanded. The bartender, a teenager of maybe 17 laughed and wiped three glasses down with a bar rag. 

"You want me to wrangle you up a girl too? Some of the best talent this side of the 38th parallel!" He pours the first belt and Hawkeye downs it before the glass has a chance to touch the bar.

"I'm not here in search of talent." Hawkeye is already reaching for the second shot and the kid smirks and laughs at his desperation.

"Could have fooled me."

Hawkeye takes a look around the dive bar. There are only a few people scattered throughout the joint. A couple on the dance floor cheek to cheek but guessing by their drastic age difference, someone was obviously paying for the dance. There was a waitress on roller skates serving drinks to a few people in the far booths and there was clearly some hanky panky going on in the curtained off area just behind that. Hawkeye didn't care. He was looking not to feel a thing. He picks up his third shot off the bar. He takes a moment to sniff it and swirl the contents of the glass around before shooting it back. 

"I need a room."

"For your convenience we rent them by the hour."

Hawkeye rolls his eyes starting to feel a slight buzz but not nearly enough. The hooch is watered down. He orders another anyway. "It would be more convenient if I could rent it for three days... and I need something a lot stronger than this." Hawkeye holds up his glass and it gets refilled again. 

"Both can be arranged for a price."

Hawkeye reaches into his back pocket where he pulls out a money clip and throws down half the money in it. "Will this do?"

The kid behind the counter bows slipping the money into his hand and counting aloud. "Very good. Let me find someone to take your bag up to your room. In the meantime, I believe what you are looking for is behind that curtain." He gestures to the far corner of the room where there is a partially painted screen and behind that a red curtain gently fluttering. Hawkeye thinks that maybe he'll just keep drinking. He's not in the mood for an orgy but after not really getting anywhere after his sixth shot he decides he doesn't care what he walks in on if it will make his brain shut up. He stands up and feels a slight rush of the alcohol hitting him. It's still not enough. He gives in and slowly walks towards the curtain. 

Tucking behind it, he’s hit with a pungent odour. The room smells sickly sweet like flowers on fire. On the ground were dingy pillows and mattresses with several sprawled bodies on top of them; some GIs, some local, mostly men, the odd one curled up in deep sleep next to a working girl. Others were clutching pipes over oil lamps and sucking in the sweet sedation. It appeared that Hawkeye Pierce had stumbled into an opium den. He had no idea what the protocol was here and against his better judgement he sought out what looked like the proprietor. In the corner of the room was a chez lounge next to which was a massive hookah being shared by three men. They seemed less dirty, less desperate and looked better attired. The exchange was brief. He'd ask for enough to get him through the next 72 hours and the men laughed while taking his money. Three pill sized white rocks were placed in his palm along with a long pipe. He is invited to sit down but he declines. He needs to be alone and preferably unconscious. The men nod and inform him that there will be a lamp in his room. He is told to pace himself. Their exact words were "this isn't any of that fake Yankee shit" and Hawkeye smirks. He was no stranger to self-medicating. He'd work it out. He always did. He walks out of the den with everything he needs, grabs a bottle of whiskey on his way past the bar and is lead to his room. 

It's a cramped dark, dank space with a straw mattress and a low ceiling. He checks the door as he closes it behind him and is relieved to see that he can bolt it. Tossing this bag into the corner, Hawkeye heads for the oil lamp and lights it using the matches on the nightstand. The motions seem familiar even though they are completely new. He takes one of the small white rocks and pierces it on the needle inside the pipe and holds it over the open flame. He waits. As the grain starts to cook, he inhales deeply from the pipe. He holds it in not knowing what to expect and then releases his breath slowly. Nothing at first aside from a small coughing fit. He repeats the action again laying back on the straw bed. Hawkeye stares around the windowless room. His eyes trace the water stains running down the walls and suddenly something in his vision shifts. He starts to feel fuzzy. Almost weightless. He takes another short hit from the pipe before releasing it to the ground. He can feel himself start to smile and he giggles to himself at the absurdity of it all. What would Sidney say? Or Trapper? That has him laughing hysterically. Why didn’t he just go back? What did he have to hide? So what if he was depressed about his friend dying? How did that make him different from anyone else? Why was it so hard to walk away from a place he hated? Why was he more afraid of dying here now than he was before? Nothing had really changed. Didn’t what he was doing now have just as much if not more of chance of killing him? He was kicking and crying he was laughing so hard. The idea of him being found dead in a place like this was the funniest thing he’d ever imagined. Hawkeye Pierce simply did not care anymore, and it was such a relief to not be afraid and to not be weighed down by everyone else’s expectations of him. 

His mind wandered to Trapper again. Beautiful, big hearted, devilishly delicious John MacIntyre. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel his strong arms around him and taste his kisses. Their time together had been so intense, so passionate and so unbelievably tender. He never thought he could be so vulnerable in front of anyone. What did he ever do to deserve such a man? And what an idiot he was for ever thinking they could make plans and be normal together. It didn’t matter the sacrifices either of them made. Normal wasn’t in the cards. Hawkeye would always be a mess and Trapper would never be able to put him back together. It would get old and it would be futile, and Trapper would do what Trapper does. Cheat. Lie. Laugh about it. Move on. How was he any different than Louise? He had even less tying Trapper to him. He would be forgotten before he knew it. And what does Hawkeye do? Lie. Cheat. Laugh. Move on. They were the same monster. And that was fine. In the moment, everything was ridiculous and not even his most heartfelt doubts and deep seeded fears hurt anymore. His heart rate slowed as his laughing calmed and his body became delightfully numb. He closes his eyes and he sees John the way he always likes to picture him, naked, wrapped up in crisp white hotel sheets, smiling that toothy crooked smile just for him. It was the perfect image to float away on.

……..

There was a gentle hum of activity in the post op ward. It was half full. Many of the casualties that had come in the day of Henry's demise had already been shipped off to the evac hospital. The cases left behind were either more severe or simply casualties of living at the 4077; two chest cases Pierce had worked on, a shattered femur, a kid whose gut had been blown apart and pieced back together by MacIntyre, three amputations, a soldier being treated for exposure and a few marines who'd started and ended a brawl at Rosie's. Everyone was recovering to the best of their ability. The nurses were working on bedding changes. MacIntyre had completed his rounds and was making notes at the small desk at the corner. There was a sense of everything slowly going back to normal here. The camp always had an uncanny way of keeping things going in times of total havoc. Patients were always the priority. Everyone at the 4077 lived that value fully. Trapper furrowed his brow, Henry's legacy, he thought. In the past few days Trapper had felt almost neglectful of this but there was always someone there to pick up the slack. Frank, god help him, and Spaulding had really done him and Hawkeye a solid without him even having to ask for one. He'd make it up to them. Make sure they got some rest over the next few days and maybe buy them a drink, or in Frank's case a Shirley Temple. Trapper always hated it when Frank's humanity shone through. It made it so much harder to do rotten things to him but sooner or later he'd resume being a rat-fink and it would be all too easy again. 

"Doctor?" Kellye calls from the opposite corner of the room. Trapper bounds out of his seat and over to her side. "Patient is complaining of abdominal pain and he's running a fever."

MacIntyre leans over the kid he'd worked on. He couldn't have been more than 18. His eyes were glassy and there was a sheen of sweat on his round face. "Hey pal, let's see if we can figure out what's going on." Trapper feels his forehead before taking a look under the dressing over his gut. He smells it in the air before he sees the signs of infection. He pulls Kellye aside, "Post-operative infection. We're going to need to put another drain in. Start him on a low dose of morphine and double his penicillin. I want his dressing changed every two hours."

"Yes doctor."

He turns back to the kid who looks completely terrified and smiles. "Don't you worry, kid. It's just a little hiccough. We're going to get you through this. Kellye's gonna get you something for the pain. All you have to do is relax and we'll do the rest. You'll be chasing skirts again before you can say ‘your place or mine’."

The kid gives a small smile. "Thanks doc."

MacIntyre gives the soldier a reassuring squeeze on the arm and allows Kellye space to work. On his way back to the desk, he stops to chat with a few of the patients and flirt with a few nurses all the while wondering about Hawkeye, his note, the flight and what if anything Sidney can do to support him. 

Klinger enters the room with a tray. He's back to his old routine, still in military dress but this time literally a military dress. It looks as though he's been rifling through the nurses dress uniforms again. Admittedly, he makes it work. 

"I didn't see you at chow this morning. I thought you might be hungry," he says placing the tray down on the desk for MacIntyre. 

"That's very thoughtful of you."

Klinger waves it off, "Don't thank me until you've kept it down... Captain Pierce make it off okay?" 

Trapper nods taking a bite out a sandwich. He thinks it’s bologna, but he doesn't want to offer a guess and be wrong. The heavy layer of mustard is helping him get it down. "He should be touching down in Tokyo any minute now."

"It's the first time someone has left here, and I haven't wanted to stow away in their luggage. I can't imagine getting on a plane after what happened to the Colonel..."

Trapper cringes and puts the sandwich back down on the plate. "That's not helping..."

"I'm sorry sir. I just can't imagine what must be going on in his head."

"We all have to fly out of here someday." 

Klinger nods, "God willing. I'm not entirely confident that they plan on ending this thing..."

"Me neither," McIntyre sighs. "Let me ask you something, how's the rest of the camp doing?"

A shrug, "About as good as can be expected. We sort of take our lead from you guys. You parade around here like everything is okay and we're able to pretend it is too."

"No pressure..."

"You know what I mean though..." Klinger struggles with his words. "It's strange seeing Captain Pierce out of sorts and don't get me wrong, he has every reason to be. We all do. I guess we don't know who to look to."

MacIntyre knows exactly what he means. It doesn't matter that Frank's commander now. It doesn't matter that in spite of himself he's managed to be almost human these past few days. No one would ever look to Frank for leadership. He almost can't believe how often they'd relied on Henry for everything. He remembers the winter supply shortage spent huddled up in the dark and cold in Henry's tent. He remembers thinking there was no one else he would submit to these conditions for. If it had been anyone else giving him that order, he'd have started a riot. They needed to someone to take the reins and show them things could be bearable again. 

Trapper rubs a hand over his face and lets out a small grunt, "I was hoping to get some sack time tonight...Before I change my mind, tell everyone happy hour is back on in The Swamp. Drinks are on me. Call it the Henry Blake memorial come as your favourite lamp shade party."

"Hey! Captain, that's might swell of you! I'll start spreading the word. Anything else I can do to help out?"

"Just make sure there's plenty of fixings in the still and go ask Radar if he's had any word from Hawkeye." Trapper worries his brow and Klinger rests a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't worry, Captain. I'm sure he's fine." 

MacIntyre forces a smile, "I know but I'll be able to drink easier once I know he's gotten in okay." 

…….

The news about happy hour in The Swamp lightens up the mood in the camp a little and Trapper is impressed by the turn out. He’s still waiting to hear from Hawkeye, so he hasn’t touched a drop of booze in spite of it flowing freely. He’s laying back in his bunk, smoking a cigar, party hat and Hawaiian shirt in tow. He has is bomber glasses on to hide his exhaustion. Every few minutes he just rests his eyes and listens to the gathering happen around him. The radio is blasting and there is dancing and laughter. Klinger is sporting his trashiest cocktail dress; red sequins and spaghetti straps with fringe at the bottom. Trapper doesn’t know many women who could pull it off, but Klinger does. He’s also got a cigar dangling from his lips as he’s passing out drinks in his red leather pumps and tiara. The epitome of class. Father Mulcahy is in the corner chatting up a few of the enlisted men about boxing. Trapper smiles and raises an eyebrow as he sees some money change hands. It’s then that he realizes that Mulcahy is leaning on them to pay up from a bet. That’s their priest! Ginger is teaching Kellye and Igor a new dance step she’d learned, and the women are twirling and giggling. Spaulding arrives with his guitar and there are cheers from the crowd. Even Margaret stops by for a while. She claims she was there to supervise but a smile from MacIntyre had her perched down next to him with a drink in her hand and she was carrying on with the best of them in no time. 

“This was a swell idea, MacIntyre,” she compliments with a slight slur. “Really.”

He smiles, “I think we all needed to blow off a little steam and it’s been pretty quiet since…” Trapper didn’t want to finish the thought. He didn’t want to remind anyone why they had all been having such a hard time. 

“Pierce will be disappointed he missed this,” she changes the subject but then realizes too late that maybe this one isn’t much of an improvement.

Trapper just shrugs it off, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to celebrate when Hawkeye comes home.”

Margaret takes a sip from her martini glass and rewards him with a goofy smile, “You always do.”

Trapper was about to ask her what was so funny about that but just then Radar comes bustling through the Swamp door. He is met with a few cheers and a couple of catcalls. "Ah, cut it out," he mutters pushing his way through the crowd toward Trapper. 

"Take a load off Radar. Have a drink?" Trapper offers with a cheesy grin. 

Radar shakes his head breathless. "No sir can't…Need you to come with me... Major Freedman, holding the line..."

MacIntyre shoots out of his cot ditching his bombers and his party hat. "Is Hawkeye okay?" 

"Don't know… He never showed."

MacIntyre shares a nervous look with Major Houlihan and she gestures for them to go. He nods knowing the party is safe under her watch. Trapper doesn't hesitate to follow Radar and they run across the compound to his office. 

O'Reilly scrambles for the receiver and to his relief Sidney is still there, "Ok, I got him. Here you go!" He hands off the phone to MacIntyre whose hands are shaking. 

"Sidney, hey, what's this about Hawk not showing up?" 

Radar is crouching in the corner breathing through a stitch in his side listening as Sidney relays the same information to Trapper that he’d told him. Hawkeye never made it to Tokyo. According to the flight registry, he never boarded the plane. After calling the base, Sidney found out about an incident. Well, sort of. Nothing went in any official file, but a sergeant had confirmed seeing someone who responding to the name Pierce act strangely, faint, come to and then flee the base on foot. No one had seen or heard from him since. 

Trapper falls back on Radar's desk chair, head in his hands. He looks absolutely crestfallen. He hasn't said a word, but Radar knows every worry going through his head and more still. 

Sidney advises not alerting anyone official until Hawkeye's pass expires. Maybe Hawkeye just needs to process things on his own. Maybe they should have thought better of the whole flying Hawkeye out to meet Sidney plan. 

Trapper agrees with a half-hearted, "No shit." He apologizes and hangs his head again. "This is all my fault. I knew I should have gone with him. I knew he needed more support. I knew he wasn't okay. Christ..."

Sidney is talking again attempting to be comforting, attempting to reason that Hawkeye is a grown man who has been managing the war unconventionally but has always ended up being fine. None of this is any relief to MacIntyre but he thanks him anyway and tells him that he'll call him with an update if they hear anything. As he hangs up the phone the word if lingers in his mind... If no one was out looking, how would they get word? Hawkeye wasn't going to phone home if everything at the airfield had gone the way Sidney had heard. He'd have to go find him. Now. He had to talk to Frank. 

"Sir, wait, there's more..." Radar blocks the door to Frank's office. He's making that face again. The face he made in the OR. Trapper's heart feels like it's going to stop cold. "I've been putting this off until we heard something from Captain Pierce, but you need to know. This came in this afternoon." Radar hands MacIntyre an official looking piece of paper and MacIntyre has to read it over twice to understand what it is. "You've got your orders, sir. You're going home." 

Any other day this news would have made him kiss Radar on the mouth and jump for joy. Now Trapper just stands there frozen. He doesn't know what to say so he doesn't say anything. He shoves the paper into his pocket and pushes past Radar into Frank's office. 

"Just heard the good news, huh?" Frank offers as Trapper enters. He's clearly not looking at MacIntyre’s fuming face otherwise he'd be far less giddy. 

"I need a jeep, Frank."

Frank looks at him quizzically. "Don't worry, O'Reilly will make all your travel arrangements for you. Day after tomorrow you'll be on your way back to the states and I just couldn't be happier... for you I mean… happier for you!"

While Frank steps on his words, Trapper just stands there simmering. "Frank, Hawkeye is missing. I need to go find him." 

"You'll do no such thing. I have a report here saying that we are due for an influx of wounded any day now."

"Any day now, Frank? Hawkeye never made it to Tokyo. You saw how he was and now he's God knows where in the middle of a war zone. You have to let me go find him. I don't have much time."

"And I told you, we're expecting casualties. You have two days left in this man's army MacIntyre. Straighten up and fly right and that's an order. Pierce will come home. Unfortunately, he always does. Since when are you his keeper anyway?"

Trapper is seething. He rounds on Burns and Frank ducks away fearing he's about to be struck. Trapper considers it. He can feel his lip curling and his eyes burning a hole right through Frank. "You coward! You malpracticing piece of shit! How dare you?" He emphasizes by slamming his hands on the desk. "Hawkeye is our chief surgeon. Do you know how many kids would be dead if it weren’t for him? Do you know how many people around here rely on him every minute of every day? You'd really throw that away for this little power trip. I have news for you Frank, this commander Burns bullshit is going to be short lived. The army is pretty stupid, but no one is that stupid and you're going to go back to being the giant nothing you are. I'm going to go find Hawk and there ain't all you can do to stop me!" 

At that, MacIntyre storms out of the room nearly running over Radar on his way out. Frank is spewing gibberish at him, but he doesn't hear a word. He heads straight for the motor pool. He's in luck. There's a gassed-up jeep waiting and no one to guard it. Everyone's in the Swamp. He grabs the keys, starts the engine and he's off in a matter of seconds. He realizes hasn't thought any of this through. He doesn't know where to begin looking and it's getting dark. His first instinct is to start at the airport, so he drives in that direction. Only MacIntyre doesn't get far before he hits a check point, is placed under arrest and is dragged back to the 4077.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working chapter title... not sure if I like them or not. Feeling very overwhelmed by this one but I wanted to get something out before I head off camping for a few days. I hope I'm on the right track. I'm gonna work this one out even if it emotionally cripples me. LOL. Let me know what you think. More to come soon.


	5. A Piece of Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end of Trapper's time at the 4077th. Packing leads to reflection.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, MacIntyre?" Burns was standing far taller and looking more authoritative in the presence of the MPs and Major Houlihan. 

Trapper thrashed, his hands cuffed behind his back and his elbows being held roughly on each side by an MP. He was furious. "I told you I was taking a jeep and going to find Hawkeye!"

"And I told you, we have wounded coming. You stole a jeep and went AWOL."

"For all of ten minutes..."

"Until you were caught. You could have spent the rest of your service looking for him." 

"Your chief surgeon isn't worth a one-man search party for a couple of days? What’s the matter with you?”

The MPs were getting impatient with the futile back and forth. The tall one on the left speaks up, "Do you intend to press charges?"

Frank paces in front of the desk preparing for a speech. Even the MPs groan internally. "I should throw the book at you this time. I really should. The blatant disrespect and disobedience I've put up with from you and Pierce is an affront to every man laying his life on the line to serve in this war. You're a disgrace to your commission. However... you only have two days left in the service and as much as I want to see you in the stockade and carrying around a permanent stain on your record, I can't spare your two good hands. You're staying put. I want a guard kept on him. He's not to leave his tent unless on duty." 

"But Hawkeye..."

"Will have to just find his own way home and if he doesn't, the MPs will find him."

"You're a real prince, Frank. Just you wait until I get home... where are you from again? Fort Wayne, Indiana. And your wife's name, well that's easy, it's the same as mine. Louise. Now the question is, do I send a letter with photographs or deliver the evidence in person?"

Frank sneers, "You wouldn't."

Trapper stares him down with a malicious grin on his face. "You wanna bet on it Frank?"

"Take this man away! I don't want to see his face unless it's in the OR." Frank gives the command and the MPs start to lead MacIntyre out the double doors. He not struggling anymore but he's still steaming. 

"Attention all personnel, attention all personnel!" The voice over the PA cuts through the weighted air. "Incoming wounded in the compound and on the helipad! Looks like our moment of silence is over. All shifts report for duty on the double!"

The MPs stop and begin to remove Trapper's handcuffs. 

"What do you think you’re doing?" Burns cries out. 

The MPs look confused. "Releasing him for duty."

"You can wait to do that until he's in the scrub room. I want the entire camp to see you in chains MacIntyre. You can be an example to all those who think Commander Burns can be pushed around. I'm no Henry Blake, you know."

Trapper shook his head and let out a defeated sigh. "No. No, you are not." He let that statement hang in the air before continuing. "C'mon fellas. Let's get a move on. There are a lot of kids out there who need help."  
.......

In the OR things are tense and quiet. Frank got the reaction he wanted from Trapper being paraded across the compound in handcuffs. The staff were shaken. No explanation was offered. There was no time. The pre-op was standing room only with not enough doctors to go around. MacIntyre stayed focused and worked diligently in spite of there being an armed guard posted at each entrance. His efforts couldn't save the third kid to be spread out on his table. The soldier hemorrhaged out right in front of him. Half his face was missing, his insides were shreds and there was just too much damage. MacIntyre stood covered in the kid's blood and he left a hand print on the white sheet he pulled over the young soldier’s head. Ginger Baylis is standing next to him giving directions about the death certificate to the core men who had appeared to take the body away and replace it with a new one. 

Her eyes are wide and full of empathy. "You need a break," she says resting a delicate hand on the doctor's forearm. 

"Can't," is all he responds. He offers out his hands, so she can replace his gloves and she does so without question. Ginger has always been Trapper's best girl in surgery. She knows all his preferences and can anticipate his movements and tell what he's about to do or ask for next. But today he's different and she decides to not question it or pester. She's heard whispers but nothing she puts any stock in. Ginger can roll with the punches better than most because the world was always ready to box her into a corner. She was a fighter and so was Trapper and together they would scrap through this horrendous session and then she would get to the bottom of what was going on. 

Another kid soldier with a freckled face and terrified eyes is placed down in front of them. It's a chest wound. MacIntyre gives an order to the anesthesiologist. He gets lost for a moment in the blue of the kid's eyes. Hawk, where are you? he wonders before holding the side of the kid's face with his gloved hand and saying, "We got you. Just take a few deep breaths and when you wake up, you'll be good as new."

The kid reaches up and his hand brushes Trapper's before he's knocked out. He wished he could be doing this operation with Hawkeye. Not because he was incapable but because as a team they were unstoppable. He'd already suffered too many losses today. He would not abide another one. 

.....

Radar is on the phone. He's been on the phone all day and gotten plenty of grief about it. He's been tying up lines, displacing calls from higher ups, ignoring Frank's orders. Anything he can do to help find Hawkeye. With the camp overrun with casualties, he was really the only person who could help.

"Do you have anyone staying there under the name Pierce? Benjamin Franklin. Tall, dark hair, probably three sheets to the wind." He was losing his patience more and more with every negative response. 

Seeing Trapper in handcuffs made him feel atrocious. Major Burns had ordered Radar to place the call to the MPs the moment Trapper had left the office. He had never stood a chance of making it anywhere. They'd shared the briefest exchange in the compound,  
no one else had noticed but Radar felt the words Trapper mouthed at him and saw the desperation in his eyes. Find Hawkeye. 

He tried, and he was still trying but he was running out of places to call. He'd immediately put out an APB not that anyone would take him seriously. He called every hotel, bar and club within a 30-mile radius of the airfield. He'd called other units, field hospitals and even aid stations to simply ask if anyone had crossed paths with a MASH surgeon in the past 24 hours. He kept hearing the same thing over and over again. He probably doesn't want to be found. 

Radar took a moment to think about himself. Where would he would go? What would he do? Radar was at a loss. He was doing exactly what he would do, what he was raised to do, taking care of the people closest to him. 

It was almost 0400 hours. He needed a break. A snack. Ten minutes to rest his eyes. He takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes and lays his head down on his desk. He's furious at himself when he opens his eyes and it's three hours later. 

........

MacIntyre's been on his feet for 18 straight hours, ten of it in surgery. The onslaught is slowing. He's about to have his third shift of nurses change since he started his shift in post-op. Ginger refused to leave his side. She'd finally gotten tired of the silence and started to ask the exhausted MacIntyre trivial details about his day while helping to plaster a broken leg.

"How was lunch?"

"Sandwich. Meat indistinguishable. Mustard helped."

"I like the mustard too. Anything to drink?"

"Water."

"Cold?"

"No."

"Yuck. Going to the movie later?"

"Only if they are showing it on the backs of my eyelids."

That earns a small laugh. "Klinger asked me to go with him. I'm a sucker for a man in a lady's uniform. Heard from Hawkeye?"

"No and they ship me out in 24 hours."

Ginger didn't think it would be that easy but there it was. "You're going home." It wasn't a question. She suddenly felt hit with the same mood Trapper was in. "Damn..."

That was the first time Trapper had smiled all day. "You gonna miss me?"

She smiles back, "You know it. Not just me though, all of us, all these kids and Hawkeye...we're going to be lost without you." Trapper watched her carefully not quite sure how much she'd figured out. She smiles again, and it doesn't matter. "Why the guards?"

"I took a jeep to go find him...I still need to go find him."

"No. You need to go home. You should be happy. You're getting out of here. You get to see your girls soon. Eat real food. Take hot showers. Wear real clothes... I bet you're a real looker in your civvies." She winks, and he blushes. "Hawkeye will be just fine. You know if he were here he'd be throwing you a party..."

"He already did that..."

"Well I bet he'd do it again.” 

Trapper grins using his shoulder to wipe a smudge of plaster off his face. "That's a safe bet."

"How about I do it for you." He waves her off, but she insists. "Hawkeye would hate you not getting a proper send off. It's not like it'll be anything fancy..."

"I'm confined to quarters unless I'm working..."

"Perfect! We'll have it in the Swamp then."

"After I've slept..."

Ginger nods in agreement, "After you've slept."

Radar appears in the doorway looking disappointed and disheveled. Trapper can't recall if he's ever seen him with that much of a five o'clock shadow before. He knows the answer, but he asks anyway, "Any luck?"

O'Reilly shakes his head, "No sir. I called everywhere, honest. Nobody has seen or heard from him since the incident at the airfield and if they have, they ain't sayin'. I'm really sorry, sir."

MacIntyre wants to be upset but he hasn't got the energy for it anymore. He takes a deep breath and releases a sigh. "It's okay Radar. I know you've been doing everything you can."

Radar was so surprised he questioned it, "Are you sure?"

Trapper laughs to hide his pain, "No," and he gestures to the guard whose been pretending not to listen. "I hate to say it, but I think it's out of our hands."

"Yes sir."

Ginger pipes in, "Hey Radar, how many more do we got waiting out there?"

"I saw three more cases on my way in."

Trapper nods, "Thanks kid... and Radar..."

Radar knows. "Don't worry, sir. I'll place all the calls again in a few hours." 

Trapper is relieved. Relieved he can depend on Radar and relieved he has someone in camp who knows how much this means to him. MacIntyre and Baylis finish with the cast. Core men come to take the man with the broken leg to post-op and replace him with a man with a broken arm. Trapper places the x-ray on the light box. The break is clean. If he's lucky he'll be in bed within the hour and will sleep away a chunk of his final 24 hours in Korea. 

………

When Trapper finally gets back to the Swamp he’s deliriously tired. His two-guard escort drops him off inside and takes up their post outside. It’s beyond ridiculous but this is the army after all and Frank Burns is in charge. He’s surprised to see the still is how he left it. The Swamp looked like it was recovering from a rough night. People must have just dropped their drinks and ran when the news of wounded came over the PA. It didn’t matter. It never did. He found an empty glass next to the still and filled it with gin. He drank it down in two gulps and poured himself another before sprawling out on his bunk. If he could just get a few hours of sleep... 

He stared at the roof of the tent. He wondered if his roof at home would still be the same colour or if Louise will have had it painted for the umpteenth time. Louise. He really hadn’t given her any thought since getting the news. He hadn’t even called home to warn her that he was coming. That would be some surprise. The last time he’d written her he was afraid he’d never get home. He’d asked for a divorce. Nothing had changed and yet everything had. He wondered if he’d beat the letter home and if he did if he’d be brave enough to stand by his words. He’d hoped so but as he lay there wishing he had Hawkeye by his side to reassure him, he wasn’t as certain as he had been. 

MacIntyre finished his second drink and started to question if he had any right to be mad or at least disappointed that Pierce didn’t follow through on his end. He didn’t see Sidney and get the help he needed then he didn’t even bother to let him know where he was and that he was safe. Trapper was certain the note he’d dropped for Hawkeye would have at least warranted a response of some kind. He felt stupid. Had he thrown away everything for nothing? He sat up not wanting to really acknowledge the doubt he was feeling build in his guts and play with his perception. Without thinking, he poured another drink and then another. 

If sleep wasn’t in the cards, maybe packing could be. He rifled under his cot for his duffel bag and found the used t-shirt from the night before. It was crusted and filthy, but he hugged it to his chest anyway. It was Hawkeye’s. He balled it up and stuffed it into the bottom of his bag. If it was all he had of Hawk, it was coming home with him. Pushing magazines and dirty clothes off of his foot locker, he began to search through it. Everything seemed useless and dull and anything that wasn’t he decided to leave behind for Hawkeye. He wouldn’t need any of this army drab junk where he was going. At the very least, Hawkeye could wear it, barter it, or burn it to keep warm. He would just need something to wear home and the wooden box he fished out of the bottom of the locker. He’d made it himself one long afternoon while Hawkeye was passed out from a long night of surgery. He was restless and needed to keep his hands busy. All those Field and Stream magazines had finally come in handy.

Until meeting Hawkeye, Trapper never would have called himself sentimental but here he held in his hands a box of mementos. Nothing anyone else could distinguish as anything important but to Trapper they were his most important possessions in this place: a couple of fishing flies Henry had taught him how to tie, a dirty cartoon Hawkeye had doodled of Frank and Hotlips, a few candid photos from Klinger’s wedding, the patented leather wing-tipped shoes Radar had sold him, a drawing Kim had made, an extensive list of altered commandments, stationary from a hotel in Tokyo with Hawkeye’s scribbling all over the pages outlining prank calls they’d place to the 4077, cigar rings, a trick candle, a deck of cards, an earring that he was pretty sure he won from Klinger in a poker game, Groucho glasses and under all that more photos and more crumpled pieces of paper. A polaroid of Hawkeye laughing. Hawkeye sleeping. Hawkeye naked and calling to him in a clean, safe bed in Tokyo. Hawkeye and his band of swinging surgeons at the no-talent night. Hawkeye and him dancing like morons at Greek Easter. His heart ached looking at them. It also drew certainty from them. Yes, he was upset. Yes, he was disappointed but looking at these images, he knew it didn’t change a damn thing. John MacIntyre loved Benjamin Pierce with everything he had. He unwrinkled a few of the scraps of paper and there was the messy script again. 

The read through each of them, smiling to himself:

I had a dream about you last night. It was explicit. If you’re lucky, I’ll share it with you later, Big John.

Two days until Tokyo. I can practically taste you. Can’t wait. 

Leaving for the aid station. Won’t say goodbye. Just need you to know that I love you. 

I crave you more than Adam’s Ribs…with the coleslaw. 

Thank you for taking such good care of me. I know I’m a crummy patient. Good thing you’re a terrific doctor. 

No matter what happens, I’ll never regret asking you to kiss me. Also, you owe my five dollars. 

Trapper remembered the night that spawned that last note with perfect clarity. Hawkeye had been drinking away an afternoon of meatball surgery. He’d been strangely quiet. They had just succeeded in blackmailing Frank into leaving Private Weston alone. Usually they would celebrate such a victory with more of a blow-out, but Trapper had been preparing for a date. He was showered, shaved and dressed in his best sweater. He’d borrowed a bit of Hawkeye’s aftershave which he absolutely loved the smell of but found it didn’t smell the same on him like it did on Hawkeye. He mentioned it and Hawkeye laughed at him. 

“It’s my animal magnetism. I’m sorry I can’t let you borrow that.”

Trapper grinned, “Ya… that’s got to be what I’m missing… which is why I’m going out tonight and you’re staying in…”

Hawkeye lounged back luxuriously on his cot, “I don’t need to go anywhere. You’ll see. If I wait here long enough someone gorgeous and desperate for me will appear.”

MacIntyre scoffed, “You seem pretty confident about that.”

“I am. In fact, I’ll bet you five dollars I get someone to kiss me tonight before you do.” 

Trapper raised his eyebrows never being able to resist a sure thing, “And you’re not leaving this tent?” 

“Well, I’m allowed to go to the latrine, but other than that, no, I’m staying put.” 

They both smile and Trapper nods, “Okay pal, you’re on.” He shakes Hawkeye’s hand before making his way towards the door. “I’ll be grateful for your money.”

Hawkeye simply smiles and let’s MacIntyre walk away. 

He’s back within the hour and he’s fuming. “How did you know?”

Hawkeye has had a few more drinks in Trapper’s absence and is having a hard time keeping a straight face. “Know what?” He asks as innocently as he can muster. 

“She hates me! She spent the last hour telling me how despicable I am for helping a homosexual stay in the army! How did she even know, Hawk? I was pretty sure that was between you, me Weston and Burns... did you know?”

Pierce was shaking his head vigorously all the while trying to suppress his manic laughter. “No, Trap, no, I have no idea how she found out. Probably Hotlips. She knew about Weston too, remember?”

He thinks about it for a moment and then comes to terms that it does sound more like something Hotlips would do to him to get back at them from framing Frank. He would have almost completely believed it too were Hawkeye not keeling over with laughter. “Ok, you may not have told Able about what we did to help Weston, but you definitely know something...”

Hawkeye couldn’t keep it in any longer. He was rolling around on his bunk and kicking so hard that he was becoming winded. “All I know…” he wheezed, “is that…she’s… terrible!” 

“Terrible?”

“Terrible! Frank Burns in drag! Don’t let those baby blues fool you, Trap. Able’s a devout bigot, racist and now a confirmed homophobe. You can do so much better…”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? I could have saved myself a lot of effort and one hell of an argument…”

Hawkeye blushes, “She needed to be put in her place. And I wanted to win… and I like you in that sweater…”

They stare at each other for a moment. It is not entirely uncomfortable. Hawkeye smiles, his hands fidgeting with the torn ridge on the edge of his blanket, and Trapper smiles his toothy grin back. MacIntyre breaks the look first and heads over to the still to pour himself a belt. Hawkeye holds out his glass and Trapper refills it for him. He parks it in the chair next to Hawkeye’s bunk with a sigh and they drink together in amiable silence. 

“We did a good thing today.” Trapper admits.

Hawkeye raises his glass in agreement. “”Us deviants need to stick together.”

“Do you think Weston will be okay? I mean, if Able found out, there’s no saying who else will and what they’ll do to him.”

The joy on Hawkeye’s face fades. He shrugs, “I don’t know… I hope so. I mean, he’s tough. I think he can handle a lot. But the entire US Army… I really don’t know, Trap.”

The question stuck in MacIntyre’s throat, but he’d always wanted to know, “Have you ever… known… anyone… like Weston before?”

“I assume you mean a homosexual and not a decorated private…”

“Yeah.”

“Of course, Trap. Haven’t you?”

MacIntyre thinks about it and shrugs, “I don’t know. Not for sure anyway.”

“Hmmm,” Hawkeye considers this. He looks like he’s about to say something but then reconsiders and takes a sip of his drink. 

“What?”

“Nothing. I just… I’m just not sure if this is the right time…”

Trapper furrows his brow. “Right time for what?”

Hawkeye sits up and crosses his legs. MacIntyre leans forward in his seat reaching out a hand that rests on Pierce’s knee. Hawkeye considers the gesture for a moment and laughs to himself gently. He looks up at Trapper with his big blue eyes and confesses, “You know me.” He half expects MacIntyre to back away or laugh but Trapper just keeps his warm, gentle eyes on him. It throws Pierce as he tries to continue his explanation. “I mean, you know that I’m not exactly… normal. I’m not homosexual per say but I’m not entirely heterosexual.”

“Who? You?” Trapper feigns surprise and Hawkeye hits him in the shoulder with a pillow. 

“I’m serious.” 

“I don’t doubt you.” Trapper grins and gives Hawkeye’s knee an understanding squeeze.

“What about you? I mean…you were the one who was telling me how much you like the way I smell…” 

It’s MacIntyre’s turn to blush. He turns away using his free hand to hide his worrying brow. Hawkeye leans forward prying it away. He holds MacIntyre’s hand in his. He takes in every line on his palm, every vein in his hand, the perfectly trimmed finger nails. All the while MacIntyre’s gaze is on him. Hawkeye takes a deep breath and squeezes Trapper’s hand. “I’d never given it any thought… until I met you.”

Blue eyes search hazel ones for acceptance and when they are convinced they have found it, Hawkeye speaks in a barely audible whisper. “Kiss me… please.”

MacIntyre takes his hand from Pierce’s knee and brings it up to his face. Hawkeye leans into his palm as the thumb reaches out to tenderly caress his bottom lip. Pierce trembles and MacIntyre leans forward tentatively brushing his soft red lips to Hawkeye’s. It’s a ghost of a kiss and it leaves them both covered in goosebumps. Trapper smiles his best smile and Hawkeye blushes squeezing his hand again. Trapper leans in again and Hawkeye meets him halfway bringing both hands up to Trapper’s face. The second kiss is deeper and more passionate. They take a few minutes to experience the taste and feel of each other’s mouths and tongues for the first time. Hawkeye’s hands run up and down Trapper’s smooth, strong jaw while MacIntyre’s are in Pierce’s raven hair. When they break apart they are both smiling which turns into laughter. It takes them a few moments to settle down from their discovery but there is no time to say anything else as Frank enters the Swamp looking particularly pleased with himself. 

“I heard someone struck out with Nurse Able…” Frank mocks. 

Trapper grins at the oblivious Major picking up his drink again, “I guess it’s just not my night.” He takes a swig of gin. “I think my luck is about the change though.” He shoots a look over at Hawkeye who smiles back. He’s dying to steal him away to elsewhere and finish their conversation, but it would have to wait. He stands up out of the chair and gives the back of Hawkeye’s neck a tender squeeze and lightly brushes his fingers along the hair there before heading to his own corner of the tent. He sees Hawkeye shiver and he tries not to look too pleased with himself. “How’d you make out tonight, Frank?”

“Oh, you… you…pervert,” Frank chastises, “wouldn’t you like to know!”

Trapper laughs, “No, not really.”

“Well, nerts to you fella! I’m glad Nurse Able gave you the chewing out your deserve.”

The Captains laugh as the Major stomps around his bunk preparing for sleep. Things settle down after a few minutes. Frank turns off the main light and Hawkeye turns off his reading lamp. Hawkeye and Trapper are forced to lay across from each other and process what had just transpired separately. It would be a few days before either of them got brave enough to broach the subject again. Inevitably, it was Hawkeye who had left Trapper the note under his pillow. That night, MacIntyre invited Pierce to the movies. Nothing out of the ordinary there. They sat in the back and would occasionally lean into each other’s shoulders. Trapper’s fingers brushed Hawkeye’s once or twice while reaching for popcorn and they might have sprawled from his own knee onto to Hawk’s a couple of times. They were all warm eyes and giddy smiles. Trapper wore his sweater and Hawkeye wore the aftershave MacIntyre loved. Afterwards they went for a long walk around the outskirts of camp. They held hands and Trapper told Hawkeye he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Hawkeye confessed to having felt something building for Trapper for a time now but not wanting to make such a dangerous play without being certain. Trapper admitted to not knowing how to proceed, being a married man, but wanting to anyway and Hawkeye understood that it would be complicated but decided that for right now, he didn’t care. They kissed again in the shadows behind the motor pool. They allowed their lips to dance until they were dizzy and breathless. They didn’t do more than kiss for the first few dates. That night though, they must have held each other for a full hour before walking back to the Swamp. After having found each other, neither was willing to let go. 

It was never not complicated but remembering their beginnings was the thing that had started to finally break Trapper. His tears ran down his cheeks and he couldn’t keep up with pushing them all away with the back of his hand. He allowed himself to sob audibly as he finally feels the weight of a weeks’ worth of horrendous loss. He was terrified he would never see Hawkeye again the same way he knew he would never see Henry again. Genuinely terrified. MacIntyre had promised Pierce a future. He meant every word of it. Leaving him behind was not his choice. He didn’t know what he could do to make it any easier. He didn’t know what he could leave behind to ensure Hawkeye knew he’d be waiting. It was becoming a very real possibility that they wouldn’t meet again in Korea. Trapper put everything back inside the wooden box and shoved it into his duffel bag, along with his dress uniform, his canary bathrobe and his Hawaiian shirt. Everything else was Hawkeye’s.

Trapper had an idea. Something subtle and small but hopefully something Hawkeye would find and understand. He stood up from his spot on the floor and began searching around the room for something sharp. He’d reasoned he couldn’t leave a letter. Frank would undoubtedly be looking for one. Anything intimate he wanted to say would be used against Hawkeye and only serve to hurt him. He couldn’t do that no matter how much he wanted to tell him he loved him, he’d be waiting and that he tried. Digging through Hawkeye’s shelves, he found a letter opener. It would have to do. He sat in the chair on Hawkeye’s side of the still and started to carve into to wood of the table that held it up. After a few minutes of careful carving the word was cut deep and clear. Us. 

Hawkeye would understand. He had to. And if not, one more thing. Trapper broke away the second piece of this dog tags and left it next the carving. 

“If I’m leaving here, I’m leaving a piece of myself with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Trapper Tuesday! I thought getting this chapter...Trapter (haha)... out would be a nice way to celebrate. This story is slowly crushing my soul but it's cool... when this fic is done, I'm writing nothing but happy things for a month. 
> 
> Leave a comment. Let me know what you think. Share the Hawk/Trap love!


	6. Ten Lousy Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye keeps a promise and Trapper John says his reluctant goodbyes to the 4077th.

The air smells fresh and briny. There's a soft mist that hits his face as the waves crash against the pebbly shore. The sun is beating down on him while a cool breeze dances across his skin. Hawkeye has missed this place with his entire being. He closes his eyes and breaths it all in. Never would he take it for granted again. Leaning back on the beach blanket, he feels the giant smile spread across his face. He's in his trunks with his trusty blue flowered Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned over top. The edges of it are rustling in the the wind. Next to him, his father's copy of Last of the Mohicans sits unopened. Clearly this hasn't been a day for reading. He releases a huge sigh and feels all sorrow and all fear melt away into the sand beneath his toes.

Out of the waves emerges a figure, a curly haired Adonis in navy swim trunks. Water trickles down his toned tanned torso as he shakes his mane sending droplets of ocean water every which way. Hawkeye swallows down hard as his heart and his head both beckon for this creature to come towards him. He is met with a toothy, crooked smile and he feels his pulse quicken. 

"Why don't you come in with me? The water's fine." Trapper calls out emphasizing it with suggestive wiggle of his brow. 

"I'm not a very good swimmer..."

"Liar."

Hawkeye blushes as he confesses, "I'd rather watch you."

Trapper smirks ruffling Hawkeye’s hair with a wet hand as he reaches for a towel. "Now that I believe.” He starts to pat himself dry and laughs out loud when he catches Pierce staring again. “You look like a man dying of thirst."

Admittedly Hawkeye was captivated by everything in his surroundings but none more than his gorgeous partner. "I just can't believe you’re here. I can't believe that we made it. I never put much stock in happy endings..."

MacIntyre guffaws, "I always thought you were pretty fond of them..."

Hawkeye crinkles his nose in offence but can't help but let a small laugh escape. "You know what I mean, you degenerate"

Playfully, MacIntyre throws his wet towel at Hawkeye. "Mmm, careful Hawk, you know what that sorta talk does to me..." As Hawkeye rolls his eyes, Trapper lowers himself onto the beach blanket and rests his head comfortably in Hawkeye's lap. Pierce smiles and his fingers start tousling wet curls. 

"You are my home. That you've decided to be here with me...in this place... And seeing you like this...I just... I don't have the words to express what it does to me."

"I think I know. You have to know that there's nowhere else I'd rather be. This is our blue heaven, Hawk."

Hawkeye melts. What did he ever do to deserve this beautiful man? He leans over and brushes a sensual upside-down kiss to MacIntyre's lips. He melts further as those lips kiss him back with equal fervour. There is a subtle taste of sea salt, mixed with a taste that was uniquely Trapper's, tugging him down further into the warm wet embrace. 

Then cold. 

And something metallic tasting. 

Blood.

Trapper stopped moving. His lips still tasted of sea salt, but they were tight and unyielding. The chill hit Hawkeye like a shell exploding. He backs away from MacIntyre only to find that he's a bloated, broken, lifeless corpse. He tries to kiss him back to life. Tries CPR. He is pounding on his sunken chest relentlessly but it's no use. Trapper's dead and gone. He screams a soundless scream out to the ocean and sees out in the cove the wreckage of a plane. He keels over in absolute agony and doesn't cease trying to scream until he feels the bile rising in his throat. 

Hawkeye's eyes dart open. He searches desperately around the unfamiliar surroundings for a source of comfort. Next to the bed there's a half a bottle of whiskey. He picks it up and takes a deep swig. He chokes on it coughing as the liquor burns this throat. The tears are streaming down his cheeks. His body has been sweating intensely. He's soaked through and he's shivering so hard he can feel his teeth chatter. He tries to sit himself up and his hand almost lands in the bile he's just thrown up next to his pillow. 

It wasn't real.

None of it was real. 

Trapper is fine. 

But Trapper's not fine. 

He's in Korea. And so is Hawkeye.

Trapper is not here with him in this den of inequity. Hawkeye pulls his knees to his chest and hangs his head on them. He rocks back and forth taking long deep breaths working hard to ground himself. The dream was so real. Maybe because it was the life he wanted most juxtaposed with the ending he could bare the least. His head throbbed. He knew his body was dehydrated and hungry, but he didn't care. The only sustenance he wants is back at camp. If he just closes his eyes and keeps breathing the room would eventually stop spinning. 

He doesn't want to, but he thinks maybe just one hit from the opium pipe might level him out a little bit. He strikes a match and watches it burn a little too long and rushes to light the oil lamp. He succeeds just as the flame kisses his fingertips. He squeezes it out with his thumb and forefinger and delights when it hurts just a little. Anything to distract him from the pain in his head. 

Hawkeye retrieves the pipe off floor and holds it over the lamp. Just one hit, he tells himself before breathing in slow and deep. He releases his breath revelling in the plume smoke leaving his lips. He wasn't better by any means, but he was beginning to relax. He let go of the tension in his neck and back and the pounding cacophony in his head lessened to a dull ache. He just needed a few minutes to get his wits back about him. He tucks his head back into his knees and breaths. 

As his body rocks, his knee touches his breast pocket and Pierce hears a small crumpling of paper. He brightens. The note Trapper dropped. He'd completely forgotten. He digs it out of his pocket and unfolds it hoping for an inside joke or a hand-written pass. What he read made him rub his eyes, look away and look back again in disbelief. He shook his aching head and let out a laugh. 

"Trapper, you big romantic idiot..."

He knows it's impossible. Trapper knows too but there the words are in Trapper's elaborate scrawl.

Marry me? 

Hawkeye is crying again but it's different now. It’s the ultimate promise of a future together. It's crazy. It's delusional. It's impossible. It will never come to pass. But he loves it anyway. He wants to get back to camp and tell Trapper so himself. 

Hawkeye stares at his wrist and for a blurry second, he panics when he can't find his watch. It's on the nightstand hiding behind the whiskey bottle. He reaches for it and almost giggles with joy when he sees the time, almost 0700. If he's been keeping track properly he's served his time in purgatory and it was time to find his way back to camp. 

Attempting to stand up brings back his throbbing headache. He winces. His knees wobble and he sits down on the edge of the bed. This is going to be more difficult than he thought but he's determined to get his shit together and get back to Trapper. 

He forces himself up and as he does he removes his t-shirt and his boxers. He digs through his duffel bag to find new ones and slides them on as he does. His pants and jacket are tossed over in the opposite corner as well as his boots. It's then that he remembers that he needs socks. Pierce goes back to rifling and finds a pair. He falls over on to the bed in order to pull them on. As he does he notices the stitching holding them together and remembers promising MacIntyre to bring him some new ones. It's the least he could do after everything. In spite of the sentiment that's gotten him moving, Hawkeye is certain he'll have some explaining to do. This could be his olive branch. As he laces up his boots, he does his best to fight the nausea trying to overtake him. He'd have to do this one step at a time. It was fine though. It was early enough in the day and he had plenty of time.

....

Morning came too soon. The sound of an out of tune bugle tears MacIntyre from his very brief sleep. The last revelly of his Korean tour. Out of habit he calls out to his bunkmate, "Hawk? Hawk?" It stings when he sits up and realizes he's still not home. 

Trapper had received an update from Radar during the previous night's festivities. In spite of all his best efforts, Radar had turned up empty handed again. The guilt on his face made Trapper feel awful for laying so much on his shoulders. Had he not gotten so carried away and tried to run off, he may have been able to be more help. He invited Radar to join him at a table where MacIntyre appeared to be playing strip poker with Ginger and a few of the nursing staff. He had already lost his shirt. Radar politely declined using his discomfort with his own nudity as an excuse. He did however help himself to a drink at the still and was available to take the photographs when a properly inebriated Captain MacIntyre agreed to pay off his gambling debts by streaking naked through the mess tent. It was all pretty delightful until the MPs had to tackle him and drag him back to the Swamp. That's when the whole party got called on account of Trapper breaking the rules of his house arrest. Radar was certain the pictures would make for some excellent trades in the future. 

Now Trapper sat alone in the Swamp. The guards were still lazing outside. He had definitely made them work harder than they’d intended the night before. His head was aching, and he could feel on his flank where they'd hit him to take him down. He took a few deep breaths in order to check out his ribs. His side was tender, but nothing felt broken. He laments that maybe a broken rib would have bought him more time though probably not with Major Disaster in charge. 

MacIntyre glances around the Swamp. He can't imagine Hawkeye here by himself. He finds himself hoping his replacement is kind, generous, capable and not at all good looking. The thought of himself behaving like his own wife crosses his mind and he laughs. He never thought he could be the possessive type until this moment. God, he wasn't ready... 

"Good morning sir," O'Reilly peeks his head into the Swamp. 

"C'mon in Radar."

Radar's carrying a tray of food and a tall glass of water. He puts the tray down next to Trapper and it's then he notices the aspirin on the tray as well. "I thought you'd be needing this." The insightful Corporal takes a seat in the chair next to Hawkeye's bunk. 

"Thanks Radar."

"Before you ask, there is still no word from Hawkeye."

Trapper nods picking up the aspirin and throwing them back with the glass of water. "I know."

"Your chopper is due at 0700 hours. Some of us would like to see you off."

MacIntyre raises an eyebrow. "Nothing too mushy, huh, Radar,"

"No sir." 

They sat for a while in amiable silence while Trapper picked at his toast. When he finished that and started to poke at the suspicious looking sausage, MacIntyre made an inquiry that had been sitting with him for a while. "Radar... you don't feel anything... funny about my flight today, do you?"

"Sir?" 

"I mean... you always seem to know... things... do you have any feeling of apprehension about today? Or, see any…you know…red flags of any kind?"

Radar shook his head. "Only that I wish you weren't leaving. Things just keep happening without any time to recover from them. I don't know how some of us are going to manage....” O’Reilly notices a tremor in the way MacIntyre holds his fork and realizes, “You're afraid." 

"Ya... I feel like it would be pretty dumb not to be." 

Radar takes a moment to really think about what he’s being asked. "The day Colonel Blake left I had this giant knot in my gut all day. I couldn't eat. I couldn't focus. When I got the news, it almost made sense. Horrible sense. Like I should have known...There's no knot today. Just an empty feeling."

Trapper nods. More silence follows. There's a complete loss of how to spend these final moments. Trapper wonders if he'll ever see Radar O'Reilly again, wonders if he'll ever make it home to his pet lamb and his disassembled jeep. He wonders if he'll be the same boy his mother remembers or a shadow of his former self. Trapper hopes he can maintain his gentle goodness in this horrible place. He's trying to think up a way to express it but all that comes out of his mouth is, "Did you get a chance to check out Hawk's points?"

O'Reilly shakes his head, "He's 8 points short. He should be out in a few months. Sooner with a commendation..."

"I've barely made it through the past three days. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him," MacIntyre confesses lowering his head. Radar isn't sure if it's shame or the hangover or both. "Thank you for everything you did. Everything you've done. If you were a different kind of person, I'd be getting a completely different type of discharge. You're the best friend Hawkeye and I could ask for."

Radar smiles, "It's nothing either of you sirs wouldn'ta done for anyone else."

Trapper picks up a pad of paper and a pencil and makes a few notes on it. He tears off the page and hands it to Radar. "I don't know how long I'll be at this address when I get back, but you contact me if you have any news or concerns or if you need anything at all." 

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." Radar pockets the piece of paper before asking, "Is there any message you want me to give to Hawkeye?"

Trapper has been thinking about this for days. There's too much to say and at the same time, he's said it all before and at much more opportune times and places. Trapper looks sad and resigned, "No. Nothing I haven't already said to Hawk a hundred times before. I left him some things. He can do whatever he needs to do with them. I hope he understands that we tried."

"I'll tell him," Radar reassures standing up and walking towards MacIntyre with his hand out stretched. MacIntyre stands up and shakes the Corporal's hand before pulling him into a warm hug. Radar who usually blanches around such affections hugs back and Trapper grins and lets out a laugh. 

"Don't get into trouble when I'm gone."

"I won't sir," Radar promises releasing from the embrace. He pauses for a moment his attention drifting to sky and then down to his watch. "You're chopper is early. You ready?"

MacIntyre wrinkles his brow and lets out a feeble laugh, "No. Stall for me for a few minutes? I just thought I should swing by post-op and I need a moment to..."

"I know. I’ll stall."

Radar turns towards the door. He's almost gone when Trapper calls him back inside, "Hey, there is one thing you can give Hawkeye for me." 

"Yes sir?"

MacIntyre takes a deep steadying breath and crosses the Swamp. He's staring intensely into Radar's bespectacled gray eyes and Radar just stands there like a deer in headlights as Trapper takes his cheek in his hand. His hand moves down the stubble of the Corporal's jaw to his chin from where he draws him into a deft kiss. 

Radar just blinks at Trapper all wide eyed and stutters, "I think some of that might be lost in translation, sir."

Trapper lets out a hearty laugh and plants another kiss on Radar's cheek. "How's that?"

The shock worn off, Radar looks more agreeable, "I can probably manage that."

"Good." Trapper sighs and looks around the place he'd called home for the past year and a half. "I guess that's everything."

"Yes sir, we'll meet you up there." 

With Radar gone, Trapper does one final lap of the tent. He stops at the still he and Pierce so finely crafted and checks his carving. He picks up the letter opener again and makes the cuts a little deeper. He finds it satisfying to cut into something that he can't hurt. When he's happy with his work, he makes sure his dog tag is next to it and takes one final gulp of gin from their creation. Then MacIntyre picks up his duffel bag and heads out the door refusing to look back. As he crosses the threshold he mutters, "Good riddance," but the words don't convince himself let alone the guards posted there. His fingers briefly brush where he painted the word Boston on the sign post what feels like eons ago. Trapper takes a deep breath before making his final trek over to post-op being closely followed by the guards and their rifles.

......

Hawkeye's nausea hits him back hard as he lounges amongst the hay and vegetables in the wagon of an old South Korean farmer. The poor man was bicycling Hawkeye and his wares to market. He was relieved to have procured a lift back to Uijeongbu in spite of the bumpy ride. He was coming down from his opium high and felt like every little rock and jolt of the wagon was out to get him. His body ached, his mouth was dry, and he was pretty certain he smelled awful, but he was on his way back and that was all that mattered. He closed his eyes and thought of camp. Frank has probably turned it into a side show in his absence. Trapper has hopefully gotten some much needed sleep and would forgive him for running away from his problems. If not, he came baring a gift at least. 

It had only taken Hawkeye ten minutes to find a little shop with men’s attire. It was a little fancier than he’d intended but that was a part of the appeal. He was pretty certain the shop owner thought he was going to rob him, so Hawkeye put money down on the counter before pointing at three ridiculously colourful pairs of argyle socks. They couldn’t be less military, and Hawkeye loved it. Trapper John could wear his dissent on his feet! He pulled them out of his duffel bag to look at them again and feel the soft fabric between his fingers. One pair was brown mixed with pink and green triangles, the other pairs were blue with red and yellow triangles and the third was royal purple with mixed with orange and lime green triangles. He smiled thinking of Trapper’s reaction to the gift. Hawkeye held them close to himself for comfort for a few miles. Underneath feeling like complete garbage, he was going back. Everything would be fine. 

…….

MacIntyre managed to kill almost half an hour in post-op checking up on his cases. He was relieved to see even the most challenging ones were starting to pull through. The blue-eyed kid with the chest wound came to for a few seconds, long enough to smile at MacIntyre who was reviewing out his chart. "I told you we'd take good care of you," MacIntyre states with a wink. The kid’s eyes sparkle with intense gratitude and Trapper squeezes his ankle before taking his leave. He turns as if to address the room, but everyone is occupied. As always, there is plenty of work to be done and not enough people to do it. He turns around and slips out the door like a ghost. His guard and his duffel and his helicopter are waiting for him. In absolute, exhausted silence, he starts making his final assent to the helipad. 

When he reaches the top, he uses the vantage point to look for any vehicles moving in or out of camp. The roads were quiet. All he could see was personnel going about their morning business. No Hawkeye. 

There was a small gathering of faces there to bid him farewell. Radar was there, clipboard in hand, like he promised he would be. Father Mulcahy waited patiently next to him. Klinger was there still dolled up from the night before. Ginger had woken up early to see him off as well. Then to Trapper's chagrin, there were Majors Burns and Houlihan. 

"Thanks for keeping us waiting, MacIntyre," Burns complains. "Some of us have important matters to attend to."

"I don't remember asking you to be here, Frank." MacIntyre brings his bag over to the chopper then takes a moment with each of his friends. He looks Klinger up and down and grins from ear to ear, "Walk of shame this morning..."

Klinger shakes his head, "Not me, sir, I'm a happily married man. I just know how much you said you liked this get-up last night."

Trapper laughs, "Black sequins really become you. I hope you get outta here real soon."

"I noticed your duffel was looking a little light," Klinger jokes sniffing back a tear. 

"If I thought anyone would fall for it, I'd give it a shot. As it is," Trapper eyes the MPs, "they're already on to me." He pulls Klinger in for an embrace and chuckles when he pulls away, "My wife's gonna lose it when she smells your perfume on me."

"Then I advise you don't let her see the photo I slipped in your back pocket."

Both men laugh as Trapper removes a photo of Klinger dressed up like a scantily clad queen of the Nile posing with a cigar and a martini in between the passed out and half clothed bodies of Pierce and MacIntyre. "My birthday! You remembered! I will treasure it always as long as it doesn't get me killed."

Trapper moves down the line to Ginger. She was already crying quietly to herself. MacIntyre offers her his handkerchief and she thanks him, delicately dabbing away at her tears. When she's done, she allows herself to fall into his arms and be held. He kisses her forehead before releasing her. "You're the tops, Ginger. Know that. You make this place better. Look me up if you're ever in Boston and don’t let the peanut brains," a vague gesture at Frank, "get you down."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," Ginger salutes him and it throws him off for a second. He offers a small salute back before moving onto Father Mulcahy.

"May the good Lord bless and keep you, John MacIntyre, for all the good you have done in this dismal place. And may he continue blessing you and your work with his grace and love."

In spite of being raised in a Catholic household, MacIntyre never considered himself a religious man. He never understood the devout worship of something he couldn't touch, taste, see, or feel, but he knew goodness and heart and that was Father Mulcahy. 

"Ditto," MacIntyre grins. "Thank you for everything Father." A hearty handshake is exchanged between the two. 

He then finds himself face to face with Major Houlihan. Trapper hasn't spoken a word to her since the night he was arrested and isn't sure that there's anything he wants to say now.

"MacIntyre, I know we've had our differences. I just wanted to say it's been a pleasure observing your surgical skill..."

"And his ass in the showers!" Klinger interjects. Ginger and Radar stifle back laughter and there is a small "oh dear..." from Mulcahy.

"Oh shut up you juvenile delinquents!" She shrieks. It takes her a second to regain composure but before she does, Trapper speaks instead.

"Don’t listen to them. We do good work together. You're a credit to the nursing profession and to the army." He salutes her, and she salutes back. "But Hotlips, you could do so much better than Ferret Face."

Again there is laughter from the gallery. The colour flushes from her face and Frank is sputtering off at MacIntyre but Trapper isn't paying any attention to his words. They can't touch him now. "Frank…Frank!" MacIntyre says trying to get him refocused. Frank stops and looks almost happy that the Captain is addressing him after everything. 

"Ya Trap?" Frank's demeanor switches from Major Pain in the Ass to the little kid who just wants MacInyre to be his friend. Trapper can't help but knock him down a few pegs.

"Fuck you."

Frank's mouth hangs open aghast as Trapper and Radar separate themselves from the group and walk carefully towards the chopper. 

"No knot in your stomach?" Trapper shouts over the beating of the chopper blades. 

"No. You're good." Radar smiles and gestures that Trapper get in.

Trapper points to Radar's cheek and says, "Don't forget."

"I won't." 

They embrace a final time before Radar backs away offering a salute and MacIntyre boards the chopper. It's a surreal moment as it lifts off the ground and takes off towards the airfield at Gimpo. He has a perfect view of the place and the people he's suffered and endured with. All but two. He closes his eyes and pleas for Hawkeye to understand, forgive and forge ahead without him and he hopes that Henry is at peace where ever he is. 

…… 

The airfield at Gimpo is bustling with activity. Unfortunately for Trapper it was a matter of hurry up and wait. His plane to Honolulu wouldn’t be arriving for at least a few hours. He sat in the Officer’s Club which was shockingly full for the morning, washing down the first short leg of his trip with a shot of whiskey. He’d already killed some time finally making a call home to Louise. His news seemed met with a mixed reaction. Trapper knew the mail didn’t travel that fast, so he’d pushed ahead of himself a little and told her they’d need to have a serious discussion when he got home. She’d seemed surprisingly content with that which had him wondering which one of his neighbours was sticking it to his wife. It served him right really. A part of him thought, good for her. His more protective and possessive side hoped that person was good enough for Louise and that he was treating her and his girls right. It felt surreal to have the tables turned on him, but he wasn’t going to fight it. This retribution had been long in coming after all. He polishes off his drink and wonders exactly how drunk he’s allowed to be on the plane. He orders another drink and promises himself to nurse it. He ends up falling into a restless sleep and not waking up until he hears his name called over the PA system.

……...

Radar was having a terrible day. Not the worst day of his life but it had the potential for coming in a close second. Captain Pierce had ridden into camp a few hours after Captain MacIntyre had taken off in his chopper. After some non-sensical banter with Major Burns, he walked straight into the showers turning the cold water on himself. Hawkeye was a complete mess which Radar had been expecting. Pierce was rambling some tall tale about a geisha that Radar nodded his way through. Radar had been in Korea long enough to know that no one came back from a geisha in the state Captain Pierce was in. Hawkeye was irate and confused and soaking wet when Radar delivered the news of Trapper’s departure. He was even more despondent after Radar delivered the only message Trapper had told him to give to Hawkeye. None of this really surprised Radar. What did surprise him was that he was now in the passenger seat of a jeep next to the AWOL Captain in an attempt to try to catch Trapper at the airport. O’Reilly wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of, getting apprehended and charged with aiding and abetting Pierce’s whims or dying in a fiery crash from him driving so recklessly. The Corporal’s heart was in his throat. Any time he said anything to Pierce the only response was, “I have to get to Trapper.” At this point, Radar was in no position to argue. All he could do was hang on for dear life and play along with Hawkeye’s lies as he talked his way through a check point saying that Radar had a medical emergency. He only hoped they did make it on time or else things were likely to be a lot worse on the way back to camp.

…….

 

MacIntyre watched as the plane that would carry him most of the way home was emptied of its previous load of passengers and their gear. They were the draftees that were here to replace the line-up of men and women he was presently standing in. He’d never felt like more of a cog in the war machine. Right now he was a piece of machinery being retired. They’d used him all up and he was free to go. As he stood there watching all the new draftees in their class A’s collecting their gear looking almost composed and confident, it made he was to laugh until he cried. It was an awful all-consuming fallacy. His name was called again, and he grabbed his bag and started his head towards the plane. As he did, he accidentally bumped into one of the new arrivals dropping his travel orders on the ground. He was starting to proceed without them when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey fella, you aren’t going to get very far without these.” Trapper snatched the paper out of the man’s hand and was about to walk away when he caught sight of his own refection in the man’s blue eyes. It was like looking into a funhouse mirror. Here was this clean shaven, fresh-faced man, with everything to lose, who still had the energy to smile and be kind to complete strangers, and there was Trapper, uniform a shambles, no shower, stubble for days, a smidge drunk and ready to tell this guy to go to hell before curling up into the fetal position and giving up the will to live. It was the perfect before and after. “Are you alright?”

The other man’s concern pulled him out of his thoughts. “Ya, sorry. Thanks. Good luck,” was all he managed to get out before he fled the scene. MacIntyre shook his head. He wondered what sort of damage would be done to that bright-eyed sycophant and if he’d make it home alive. Then he decided he didn’t care. There were so many others who deserved to be home so much more. He turned around one last time. There was a small part of Trapper that had expected to find Hawkeye at the airfield. Like there would be an opportunity for closure and one last moment to hold onto until the next one, god knows when. It’s too late now. It’s time to go. Trapper boards the plane, takes his seat, and doesn’t open his eyes until they land in Hawaii. 

…….

“I missed him.” Hawkeye laments to no one in particular. “I can’t believe I missed him. I miss him by ten lousy minutes! Ten lousy minutes!” He’s thinking over everything he could have done differently to make up the time and he blames himself completely. The socks, the opium, the time it took him to find a ride, the time in the shower, the time he wasted bothering to ask Frank’s permission… His heart ached. Trapper was really gone. 

Radar had a feeling it was too late but said nothing. Now he’s trying to sneak a word in edgewise to introduce Trapper’s replacement to Hawkeye before he shuts down completely. “Sir...? Sir…?”

“Ten lousy minutes! Can you believe that?” Hawkeye is devastated.

“Sir, this is Captain BJ Hunnicutt. Our new surgeon.”

As if on cue, Hawkeye pulls himself together just enough to complete the introduction, “Hawkeye Pierce,” he says briefly shaking the man’s hand. 

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Huh?” Hawkeye wasn’t expecting that. He blinks and takes a second to observe this Captain Hunnicutt. Tall, blue eyes, blonde, clean-cut, class A’s, wedding ring on his finger… He shakes his head, “No… I just… I can’t believe I missed him…Forget it. Let’s go home.”

……..

It takes them a better part of day to find home. First a missing jeep, then the Officer’s Club, finding wounded on the way home, the shelling and then more drinking to recover from the shelling. It was a banner first day for Captain Hunnicutt. For Hawkeye, it was a relief. He was able to supress all the anguish and regret he was feeling until he was back in the Swamp. After a swift reprimand from Major Burns, Hawkeye was able to show the inebriated Captain Hunnicutt to his quarters. In spite of needing it desperately, neither man had the energy to shower. Hunnicutt fell into Trapper’s old bunk and Hawkeye felt absolutely crushed. 

“You have your own distillery?”

Hawkeye nods half-heartedly. He’s tearing off his dirty uniform and sliding into his robe. If he was going to feel this terrible, he might as well be comfortable. He pours himself a drink. He doesn’t even want it. It’s just force of habit. That’s when he notices it just next to the pitcher. The word us carved into the table and next to it a single dog tag. He wrinkles his nose forcing back any sign of emotion. His fingers trace the carving. Whoever the them, we were always us. He looked around the Swamp and realized that Trapper had intentionally left pieces of himself everywhere. He hadn’t left without a note. He left everything he could leave to reassure Hawkeye that he was thinking of him. He notices Trapper’s footlocker tucked beside his cot. It’s full of clothes and his blanket. Just opening it releases the smell that is distinctly his mate and it brings tears to his eyes. He pulls out the blanket and throws it on his bunk. Then he picks up the dog tag. MacIntyre, John Francis Xavier. He looks for a way to fasten it to his own and when he does he slips them back under his shirt. Trapper’s party hat and bombers are abandoned on the floor next to his bunk. Hawkeye is pretty certain he can still see Trapper’s lip prints on a martini glass. He picks up the glass and hides it in Trapper’s footlocker. 

That’s when Hunnicutt chimes in again, “You sure you’re okay?”

Hawkeye doesn’t turn around to face him, but he wipes at his face and laughs, “After the day you’ve had, you’re asking me?”

BJ chuckles and shines his toothy grin, “True. But you seem like someone who’s just lost his best friend…”

“Ya…” is all Hawkeye could say. He rubs his hand over his chest where the dog tags sit on his sternum. It sits a little heavier than before and he likes it because he’s a little bit heavier from all the loss. Pierce pulls off his boots and curls up into his bunk. He starts out facing Hunnicutt whose eyes are focused on the roof of the tent, but Hawkeye can’t bare it. He rolls over to face away. This would take some getting used to. He vows then and there to get over this quickly. To not show anyone his despair. To swallow it whole. He could get through this alone. Having MacIntyre to lean on had made him weak, he thought. It had given him something to lose. Now that he’d seemingly lost everything, he would just flip a switch and be Hawkeye again. 

He thought of the promises MacIntyre had made. He thought of the note that was still in the breast pocket of his jacket. Even if he’d meant every word, even if it was in the cards, he’d still have to get home first. He’d have to survive and that was where Hawkeye knew he’d have to put his energies. No more wallowing for Trapper or for Henry. He would live for himself and whoever was here, whatever that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG... I'm so relieved to finally be posting this chapter. In terms of the writing, it's felt like the last 20 minutes of the Return of the King movie where every scene feels like an ending but there's still so many more little details I wanted to include so I had to start another scene and then another and blah! Maybe it's because it's the part we all know. I don't know. It got frustrating but here I am on the other side. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much! I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it. There will be an epilogue (or several...TBD) so stay tuned. As always, let me know what you think. And Abyssinia! 
> 
> As always, I don't own anything. Please don't sue me. I'm poor.


	7. On The Home Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye finally makes it back to Crabapple Cove.

The moment Hawkeye got out of his father's truck, he could hear the crashing of waves against the shore and smell of the sea on the night air. He looked up into the starry summer night sky and noticed the positions of the constellations had drastically shifted. It took two days of travel but here he was back on the side of the world he was accustomed to. As he stood outside his childhood home, he felt very small. The joy he felt was so enormous there was nothing he could do but stand there in awe. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel Pierce paid close attention to his son. Although Hawkeye didn't say anything on the drive from the airport and would likely never bring it up on his own, he knew his son had witnessed some terribly violent things. The change in him was visible. It wasn’t just in the weight loss or the sallowness of his skin or in the defeated hunch in his shoulders, or the patches of gray in his once jet-black hair or the despair in his eyes. There was a stillness that never existed in his son before. The wit and punch of the written words Daniel was used to receiving didn't match up to the silent shell of a person he watched stare up at the stars. 

"I thought I'd put you in the guest room. I'd say you've outgrown your childhood bed." Daniel Pierce gets his son's minimal luggage out of the back of the truck and carries it to the door. Hawkeye doesn't hear him. He's staring at a light in the distance. "Ben?"

"Huh?"

Daniel offers a gentle smile, "You holding up, okay?"

"I... I'm just seeing things... I'm tired, that's all."

"Well that's allowed. You're here to rest and heal. There's nothing urgent you need to attend to aside from eating and sleeping," he puts his arm around his son and leads him home. "And maybe bathing..." he jokes wrinkling his nose. 

"Is it that bad?" Hawkeye looks embarrassed. It's one thing to smell like garbage in a war zone, but to smell like refuse in front of the person he respected most on the world made him shrink away. 

"I'm joking. Though a nice bath might be a good way to take the edge off."

"Add to it a belt of something strong and I'm sold."

"Sure thing kiddo." Daniel opens the front door and switches on a light. Nothing has changed. Everything in the mudroom was exactly how Hawkeye remembered it and he smiled inwardly. "Welcome home." Hawkeye embraces his father and he lets out a half laugh half sob. He can't believe it. He's home. His father holds him tight and claps his hands on his back. When they break apart they both have matching smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. "You head upstairs. I'll bring you that drink."

......

Hawkeye hadn't heard his father, so he dumped his things in his childhood bedroom. It was like a journey to another time and to a different Ben Pierce. Everything was crisp and clean and in different shades of blue. On the small bed was a quilt his mother and grandmother had made for him. Every second patch had a different marine creature on it alternated with anchors and shells and ships. On the nightstand a stuffed toy lobster he'd remembered naming Pinchers and in a small silver frame, a photograph of him as a baby laughing as he's being doted upon by his loving mother. There wasn't a lot Hawkeye remembered about her but every night as a child he remembered saying goodnight to her and telling her he missed her. There was artwork hung haphazardly on the walls and shelves filled with books, everything from childhood favourites to classics to anatomy books and medical journals.

He walked over to the bay window and sat down on the pillowed edge. He'd spent countless hours in the safe haven of this nook watching the ocean and dreaming about all the adventures he'd have on the sea. Now all he could see was his own sad, distorted reflection gazing back at him. He'd hoped in time he'd feel safe to dream again. He opens the window, so he doesn't have to look at himself and is relieved when he can star gaze again. The wind rustles the limbs of the old weeping willow in the back yard and his eyes are again drawn to a small light in the distance. Hawkeye didn't remember anything over in that side of the yard before accept grass and rock and infinite possibilities for play. He watched and wondered and thought maybe he was seeing things especially when the light disappeared.

"I thought maybe some brandy might help you sleep." Daniel Pierce set the glass down on the nightstand and went to join Hawkeye by the window

"Thanks Dad... Dad?" He asks in a quiet voice, "Do you have any clothes I could borrow?"

"Of course."

"Nothing green."

"I think I can manage that. You better get moving. Your bath is running. I put some Epsom salt in and there’s some soap in there too." He ruffles his son's hair and heads for the door. "I'll lay out some things for you to try on."

Hawkeye nods. His eyes have drifted back out the window into the blackness of the night and his father smiles. He didn't nickname his son Hawkeye for nothing. 

....

The combination of the steaming hot bath and the brandy has Hawkeye in a daze. He thinks he might just sleep here in this claw foot tub. If he drowns, so what, he'll have died happy and warm. His head swims from place to place with no real rhyme or reason. He wonders briefly about what the hell he's going to do with the rest of his life, but the picture is too vast to hold focus. He wonders if BJ made it home safe or if he's dead in a ditch somewhere having gotten into an accident on that stupid motorbike. He shakes the darkness away and submerges his head holding his breath for as long as he can. He always hated that motorcycle. He thinks about possibilities. It's summer and that means Maine lobster and farmer's markets and long lazy afternoons at the beach. He thought about his dad. Wondered how he felt at his age having to take care of his grown son. The topic of man-children had him wondering if Frank Burns had made general yet. Or maybe he'd just run for congress. Frank would thrive in the hypocrisy of government. That thought pinballed into worrying whether or not his time in Korea made any difference at all. What was accomplished? Nothing that made any sense to Hawkeye. He hugs his chest. The futility of everything gives him a chill. One of his pruney hands clasps onto his dog tags. He holds them so tight they leave a deep imprint on his skin. Trapper. He thinks of Trapper. 

Hawkeye dunks his head again and he flashes back to water fights between the two in Tokyo bathhouses, stealing kisses in the camp showers, and attempting to squish into a hotel tub together. He laughed aloud remembering the awkward tangle of long lean limbs that they were. 

They were on the same soil again. He closes his eyes and traces the words on the tag that once belonged to his Trapper. He recites the serial number to himself. Hawkeye has it memorized better than his own. He found it a way to give himself something to focus on when he needed soothing. He did it a lot in the end. He wondered if people hearing him repeat numbers over and over again to himself had gotten him sent away. Chicken.

"Fuck." He takes a deep breath and tries to push aside memories of the bus and the smothered infant and his part in her demise. It's like a record that just keeps going around and around in his head. He'd do anything to be able the rip it off the phonograph and smash it. He thinks a better man would have helped to soothe the baby. Trapper would have taken the child in his arms and calmed it until it was blissfully asleep and unaware of the danger it was in. Trapper would have done the same with him when they got to a safe place. No place would ever be safe from that memory and how could he ever relate this part of himself to anyone?

But it doesn't matter. He hasn't heard from Trapper in over a year and Hawkeye hadn’t made any effort to reach out to him either. He viewed it as a survival tactic but now it felt childish. A lot can happen in a year. A lot had happened. He was broken far beyond the cracks he'd had when Trapper had left. Hawkeye honestly didn't know if he'd ever recover. 

There is still a sip of brandy left in his glass. To pull himself out of these crushing thoughts he reaches for the glass and downs the remainder of its contents. It goes down smooth and he feels a warmth behind his eyes. There was nothing he could do tonight. He closes his eyes and lets the warmth of the water and the booze take him.

He wakes up hours later shivering and shaking in the bone cold water. He drains the tub, but the plumbing is slow and runs the hot water in an attempt to warm himself. His eyelids are heavy and the water he's dousing himself with from the tap is so hot it burns. He doesn't care. It's an exercise in futility but he keeps trying until he's startled by a knock in the bathroom door.

"Hey Hawk, are you okay in there?" 

Hawkeye is delirious he's so exhausted. "No," he laughs bitterly. "I'm not okay."

"Can I come in?"

A small, "yes" and the door opens. Daniel appears holding a plush grey robe.

"I thought you could use this..." he stops and observes his son. His skeletal frame is wracked with shivers and his eyes are wide and watery. 

"I need to find Trapper." 

His heart aches for his son. "We will. First let's get you out of there and into a warm bed." Daniel turns off the water, helps his son up carefully and wraps a towel around his shoulders. He notices the dog tags but doesn't mention it. When Hawkeye is dry enough, Daniel helps him into the robe. He can still feel him shaking as he walks him back to him room. Daniel moves the clothes he's laid out on the bed over to the dresser, throws back the quilt and Hawkeye folds into the tiny bed. Daniel goes to the closet and removes another blanket allowing Hawkeye to make a cocoon. "Better?" He asks taking a seat on the edge of the bed. The old springs whine at the extra weight. There's a small nod from under the blankets. "I'm sorry. I fell asleep listening to the radio. I should have come to check on you earlier. It's a bad habit I've gotten into. Staying up late, falling asleep with a drink in my hand, listening to late night reports about the war. Your being in Korea... it was the hardest thing I've gone through since losing your mother. I missed you every day. Worried about you endlessly. Was terrified I was going to lose you. I know I don't say it enough, but you are my world. You're the only real tangible piece of her I have left. I know it's going to take some time to adjust. I don't expect you to be okay. I'm just so happy you are here and that you’re safe."

Hawkeye never doubted his father's love for him, but this was the first time he'd ever heard him truly speak to it. He reached out his cold hand and rested it on his father's shoulder. "I love you too, dad." 

Daniel turns to face his son and clasps his hands over Hawkeye's in an attempt to warm it. "Everything is going to work out. You just need to allow yourself time to recover." The doubt is clear in Hawkeye's eyes, but he nods anyway. He feels like nothing could ever erase the pain and the loss he's experienced. He's quiet but his free hand keeps fidgeting with his dog tags, one in particular. "Tell me about him."

Hawkeye's eyes widen. "What?"

"Tell me about Trapper."

"I've already told you about him in my letters."

"Mentions, small details, the hint of a plan to move in with a friend after the war. Level with me Hawkeye. Tell me about this person who means so much to you."

Hawkeye sits up pulling the blankets along with him. He wrinkles his brow half thinking of where to begin and half uncertain he's prepared to share this part of himself with his father. A part of him had spent so much time hiding it, he felt like it was wrong. "Trapper... John... he was the best friend I'd ever had... until I realized he was so much more than that. He was my rock. While I was a wild, out of control, emotional wreck, John was steadfast and strong and so... beautiful. We took care of each other but more often than not, it was me who needed him. He let me be myself even when that meant I was being a fruit loop. He knew how to soothe me, how to talk me down but also how to build me up and cheer me on." Hawkeye lets out a small laugh. "God, he was playful too and wickedly clever. He was the mastermind behind our best pranks. He brought the best out in me. He made hell bearable." 

"You're saying was a lot."

"I haven't heard from him in a year. I don't know if what I experienced is still true or if it could even exist outside of that place... he's a married man... with two daughters... hell, for all I know it could be three now..." Daniel Pierce is silently observing his son who is clearly having an argument with himself. Hawkeye looks up at him and fears he sees judgment, "I know, I know, how many times did you tell me that married meant off limits? And I was always so adamant about steering clear of married women. But he was so unhappy. He wasn't in love with her. He said he was in love with me... we made promises... we... he asked me to... It's my own fault..."

Hawkeye was trembling, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He looked completely inconsolable. Daniel had only ever seen his son like this one other time before. It brought him back to the horrible day when he had to tell his five-year-old son that his mother wouldn't be coming home from the hospital. He held his son just like he had then. Felt the overwhelming flow of emotion crash and ebb against his shoulder. He spoke in a soothing whisper, "You need to stop letting your imagination run away with you and you need to stop blaming yourself for circumstances that are beyond your control. We'll find him. We'll work it all out. You'll see." They stayed like that for a long time. Hawkeye's tears ran dry and he was starting to settle in spite of the fit of hiccups he was trying to force away. "Hawkeye, you need to rest. Can I get you something to help you sleep?" He rubs his eyes and nods his consent. "Ok, I'll be right back."

Alone in the room, Hawkeye stared out in the darkness beyond his window and again noticed that little flickering light in the distance. He was about to get up and take a closer look when his father came back with a glass of milk and a sominex. The creaminess of the milk brought Hawkeye back to the Christmas Trapper had come back to camp with a bucket of fresh squeezed cow's milk. He smiled at the memory of Trapper telling him he'd delivered a baby cow with his bare hands and was delighted even more when Trapper took him and Radar to meet it the next day. He remembered the soft fur and the wet pink nose and the way the calf kept leaning into Trapper like it knew who his champion was. Hawkeye had always liked animals, except rodents, but had no experience with them. Trapper had even less experienced with them having been raised in a big city but was a complete natural. It was just another thing that made him completely irresistible.

"Thanks dad," Hawkeye said finishing his milk. Daniel takes the glass away and Hawkeye lays back down. His dad readjusts his blankets so that Hawkeye is completely covered up and then he sits back down next to him. He remains there until he's certain his son has drifted away completely. Hawkeye doesn't stir for another 14 hours. 

.....

It was a deep dreamless sleep that was only interrupted by the sound of hammering. Hawkeye ignores it for a while pulling the covers over his head and then his pillow. He thinks it's unbelievably rude until he opens his eyes and see that it past 1600 hours. 4pm he corrects himself. A civilian doesn't need to use military time. Fuck military time and fuck that hammering. He forces his groggy body to sit up, yawning and stretching as he does. The mattress groans as he stands up and walks over to the dresser where his dad had left him some clothes. To his satisfaction there was nothing green or khaki although nothing fit quite right. He settled on a boring white t-shirt and a pair of brown slacks. There was a worn and soft red flannel shirt he pulled on over top. After completing his morning ministrations, he padded down the stairs in search of his father.

"Dad?" He called out. "Dad? Guess who got some sleep and is no longer a blathering mess? Dad? The clothes don't fit but it beats fatigues any day. Where did you get this shirt? I could really use one of my own..." Hawkeye stopped talking when he saw a note sitting on the kitchen counter. 

Next door helping a friend. Help yourself to something to eat. I'm going to barbecue tonight. Come join us when you're up. Dad.

Hawkeye feels himself start to salivate at the sight of the word barbecue. He licks his lips and his stomach growls. He wants to eat everything but decides to hold off on gorging himself until dinner. Instead, he grabs a fresh peach from a bowl on the counter. Taking a sniff of it makes him weak in the knees. He takes a bite and needs to sit down and savour its succulent sweetness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had fruit that wasn't from a can. He closes his eyes and delights in the soft juicy flesh until it was all gone, and his fingers were sticky. He licked them off and then quickly washed his hands. 

Hawkeye doesn't much feel like fraternizing with the neighbours. He works hard to think about it and he can't for the life of him remember their names or faces. There have been too many names and too many faces over the past three years.

Instead, Hawkeye decides to head outside and investigate where that hammering is coming from. Barefoot he slips out onto the back porch and walks down the steps onto the soft grass. The sensation of lush grass beneath his toes was reinvigorating, nothing like the dry thickets of brush in the Korean country side. His fingers brush the bark of the willow tree as he navigates his way around its hundred-year-old roots. It was like seeing an old friend again. He made a point of promising himself that he’d spend time out here as often as he could manage. As Hawkeye walked he'd noticed that his father had planted some new trees and a bit of a hedge on the far side of the property. Just beyond it was the source of the hammering and to his total surprise a cozy little coach house. Out front his father was hammering a nail into the railing to secure it to the porch that appeared to wrap around the entire house. It was quaint with a stone chimney and big glass windows. It was surrounded by greenery that didn't obstruct the view of the ocean but kept it hidden away. On the side of the house was a small garden with a few tall sunflowers peaking over the rose bushes. Heaven really.

"Dad!" Hawkeye calls. Daniel smiles and waves him over eagerly. "What is this?"

Daniel puts down his hammer, dusts himself off and joins Hawkeye on the lawn. "I sold off a few acres of our land. It was getting too hard for me to take care of all by myself and I found an interest buyer."

"That's great, I guess." He's honestly not sure what he thinks of selling off a piece of his childhood, but he gets his father's reasoning. He takes in the house again and looks back at his father. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

There's a devilish grin on Daniel Pierce's face. Hawkeye is confused until he hears footsteps on the roof where his father's attention is focused. He's stunned into silence. 

A familiar voice yells down, "I'm heading in to grab a beer. Can I get you... Damnit Daniel, you told me you hadn't heard from him!"

Trapper. 

"I'm old," Daniel shouts back, "I forget things!"

"Like hell!"

Daniel is laughing, and it seems Trapper is just as thrown off by Hawkeye's appearance as Hawkeye is by his. Neither of them moves. Hawkeye is certain it's a sweaty, curly haired mirage in blue jeans and an undershirt. 

"Cat got your tongue?" Daniel teases Trapper. 

He stutters trying to get out the words and he disappears from sight, "Be right down."

A slack jawed Hawkeye stares at his father. "How?" is all he manages to say before he's nudged back around. Trapper is standing just a few feet away worrying his bottom lip and looking at him with sorrowful honey eyes. 

"Hiya Hawk."

Hawkeye's eyes are full of tears and his heart is beating in his throat. "Hi Trap." It's barely audible. His feet feel like they've grown roots and he can't move. It takes what feels like ages rip them up to meeting Trapper half way. They are so close now that their noses are almost touching. Everything feels like slow motion. A tear beads and falls from Pierce's lashes. McIntyre catches it on his fingers and brushes it away. Those same fingers caress his cheek and trace from his cheekbone down to his neck. Hawkeye visibly shivers and looks away. McIntyre lifts Hawkeye's chin and their eyes search each other longingly. 

"I've missed you so much, Hawk. You're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Those were the words that coaxed Hawkeye's arms around Trapper and McIntyre pulls him in for a long embrace. He can feel Hawkeye's tears on his neck and he massages the length of his spine and then the nape of his neck. 

Daniel Pierce smiles and politely excuses himself saying something about preparing for dinner. Trapper smiles back at him before hugging Hawkeye tighter. He lets out a shuttering breath and a few tears of his own. He's been waiting for this moment for far too long. When Hawkeye peers up at him with his shining blue orbs, Trapper plants a kiss on his forehead. He's tentative about the rest and feeling the tension in Hawkeye's posture he can tell he is too. He presses their foreheads together instead and whispers, "Welcome home. I hope you like it." Hawkeye smiles and lets Trapper take him by the hand. "Can I give you the tour?" 

Hawkeye nods, still speechless and allows himself to be lead up onto the porch and through the front door. 

The inside of the house is just as quaint and cozy as the outside. It's not yet fully furnished but there's a big living room area which hosts wood floors and the large stone fireplace with a lush grey carpet in front of it. The large bay windows give a picturesque view of the ocean and the greenery outside. There's a small room off to the side of that which stands empty. It has a lovely view of the garden. In the back of the house there's a modest kitchen and dining area, a bathroom with a two sinks and a large tub and shower and a small laundry room. When they head back into the living room Hawkeye notices set of stairs.

"Where do those go?"

Trapper grins, "To the master bedroom. It's a loft with a view and a king-sized bed." Hawkeye turns crimson and buries his head in Trapper's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. That part of the tour can wait."

He looks back at Trapper who has wrapped his arms around him again. He smiles at him before resting his head on his chest. McIntyre’s holding him tight and for the first time in a very long time, he feels safe. "How?"

"How what?"

"How did you do all this?"

Trapper snickers, "All that Field and Stream finally came in handy." Hawkeye stares up in disbelief and Trapper laughs. "I had time and a lot of help. Your father mainly. When the army screwed up and told your dad that you were dead, he sought me out. I was in the process of filing for divorce. I came out here the moment I heard. He was a wreck when I got here. I wasn't any better. We got to know each other pretty well in those few days. Long story short, I never really left and then we had this idea. We've been working on it for about a year now..."

"You never wrote."

Trapper shakes his head, "I wrote almost every day." He lets go of Hawkeye and runs up the stairs to the loft and comes back down carrying a shoe box. He hands it over to Hawkeye who opens the lid. It's full to the brim with letters that start Dear Hawkeye. "I wrote a lot. I was just too afraid to send anything of significance with Frank sniffing around. I had someone keeping an eye on you for me though."

"Radar?"

"For a while and then Klinger. And Sidney..."

Hawkeye’s hackles raise at the mention of this psychiatrist. "Whatever happened to doctor patient confidentiality?"

"He never told me anything you told him in confidence. You know Sid better than that. He would just tell me if he'd seen you, how you seemed, if you’d fleeced him at the most recent poker game. Nothing medical or psychiatric." Hawkeye raises an eyebrow. "You don't trust me..."

"I don't know what to think. This is a lot to process..."

"I'm sorry. I know... well, at least I know what I experienced when I came home. It was... challenging. No one is rushing you into anything, Hawk. I want to take things nice slow and get to know you again... and let you get to know me again…that is if you want to give it a try..." Hawkeye offers a small nod and tries to hand Trapper back the shoe box. "Those are yours. Read them... or burn them if you want to. Just know that I thought about you all the time. Not a day went by when I didn't miss the hell out you."

"Same. As much as I tried not to feel it, I always did. I had to learn how to function without you." Hawkeye hugs the shoe box close to his chest. 

"Me too. I was devastated when I thought I'd left you in that place to die. I would have never been able to forgive myself."

"None of this is your fault. I hated it, but I never thought it was something that was in your control." Hawkeye stares at the floor because it's too hard to look at Trapper and confess the next part. "I'm the one who screwed up."

Trapper shakes his head, " What do you mean?"

"I never went to Tokyo. I couldn't... I was so scared and so stupid..."

"You're allowed to be scared."

"But I could have come back to camp... instead I was too ashamed. I hid..."

"Hey..." Trapper closed the distance between them and takes Hawkeye's face in his hands. "Look at me. You don't have to do this to yourself. We don't have to do this. We both made mistakes but we're here now. I don't care if we missed out on something then if it means we get to have now."

The shoe box falls to the ground as Hawkeye's reaches out for Trapper. He is caught off guard by Hawkeye's lips on his but his lips part eagerly welcoming in the taste of peaches and the familiar touch of that talented mouth. Hawkeye moans at the sensation of Trapper's tongue tracing his bottom lip before gently grazing it with his teeth. He uses this opening to wrestle his tongue against Hawkeye's while his hands are reacquainting themselves with the back of his neck and the curve of his backside. Everything feels heady and heavy. Trapper can hear his pulse throbbing in his ears and the blood is rushing from his head to more erogenous places. Hawkeye hands are traveling down his front and he manages to capture them before he goes for his zipper. Pierce lets out a frustrated whine. Trapper slows their kiss and breaks it off in a series of delicate kisses on Hawkeye's face.

"Steady," his whispers partially to Hawkeye and partially as a reminder to himself. His voice trembles giving away any sense of composure. He kisses Hawkeye's nose. "I want you." He kisses each eyelid. "So badly". He kisses his earlobe. "No more messing around." He kisses his cheek. "I want the answer to the question I left for you the last time we were together." He nuzzles Hawkeye's nose with his own. "I need you to be sure. " He kisses his forehead, "Cause once we do this, I'm not going to be able to let you go." He places a slow breathy kiss on his lips. When Trapper pulls away, Hawkeye's lips stay parted. His eyes are dark with desire. He swallows down hard and nods his reply, too breathless and consumed for words. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you so much, Hawk."

He snakes his arms around Hawkeye's waist and Hawkeye's arms slip around his neck, hands delighted to be running through the thick curls they loved so much. Trapper just holds him as close as he can manage for a few more minutes breathing him in deeply. It's not until the smell of meat grilling permeates the space and Hawkeye's belly lets out a loud rumble that they let go laughing loudly. 

"You must be starving."

"My body is deficient in basically every essential nutrient. I don't remember what real protein tastes like." He takes a long deep breath in trying to capture the scent on his tongue. Trapper kneels down and collects the spilt letters, some of which got a little trampled, and places them back in the shoe box. "I'm sorry."

Trapper offers up one of his infamous half smiles, "Don't be. I wouldn't trade that kiss for the world."

Hawkeye blushes and takes the box from Trapper. "We always were pretty great at that part."

McIntyre moans his agreement and Hawkeye laughs. "You better not leave your father waiting."

"Aren't you coming?"

"Yeah," it's Trapper's turn to blush. "I just need a minute to... umm, settle down." Hawkeye sneaks a peak at the bulge in Trapper's jeans and grins wickedly. "What? It's been a while..."

Hawkeye cocks his head wanting to ask how long but doesn't dare for fear of having to answer in turn and spoiling everything. Instead he teases, "I'll meet you both there."

"Very funny." 

They are both wearing ridiculous grins. Hawkeye's feet feel like they are made of lead again, but he manages to make his way out the door with the shoe box in tow. He turns around to watch Trapper through the glass. He's still smiling and laughing to himself. Their eyes meet, and Hawkeye feels a shot of electricity up his spine. He'd have to thank his father for the incredible surprise. 

.....

Dinner was an informal affair on the back porch of the Pierce homestead. Trapper cleaned up and put on a dressier shirt. The first few buttons remained unbuttoned revealing the indent at the base of his neck. The sight of which made Hawkeye dizzy. Between the food, the scenery and the company, he was definitely experiencing sensory overload. 

Daniel Pierce had out done himself making a delicious dinner of surf and turf. The lobster was fresh and cooked to perfection and the butter was richer and creamier than Hawkeye remembered butter ever tasting. The steaks were mouth wateringly juicy and served with baked potatoes with all the fixings. Hawkeye and Trapper had fallen back into their old habit of feeding each other. Every two or three bites one of them would moan how great something tasted and then offer some to the other in spite of having the same plates full of food in front of them. Hawkeye helps Trapper crack open his lobster claw, digs out the meat and holds it to Trapper's eager mouth. They both laugh and return to their own plates but only for a few minutes.

Daniel and Trapper talk like they've known each other for years. It's at dinner that Hawkeye learns that Trapper's been working at his father's practice. The recently divorced Dr. John McIntyre has been quite a boost to the morale of the local ladies young and old. His father jests that he has many admirers including 64-year-old Mrs. Simchuck who has visited the clinic three times this week. Once with cookies. Hawkeye is laughing hysterically at the miserable look on Trapper's face. 

Trapper sulks, "You'll see who's laughing when she leaves me her fortune in her will." 

"Enjoy the treasure trove of adult diapers, dentures and cats!" Daniel scoffed.

Hawkeye laughs so hard he's tearing up.

Trapper pulls a face, "Please, not while I'm eating..."

"Have you told Hawkeye about the career move we've been discussing?"

Hawkeye raises an eyebrow and grins, "Geriatrics?"

"No..." Trapper gives Hawkeye a shove and shakes his head. "Crabapple Cove isn't big enough for three MDs to work steadily. I was thinking about studying and getting my veterinary licence. Expand my patient list..."

Daniel interjects, "Doc Porter's been wanting to retire for ages. He said he'd be willing to take Trapper under his wing. He's been a veterinarian for over forty years. It would be a great learning experience not to mention invaluable to the cove."

Hawkeye is taken back a little, "What about thoracics and being a surgeon in Boston? You're used to being in the big city and now you want to be a rural vet?"

McIntyre shrugs, "I want to be here, and I don't want to be a chest cutter anymore. I've seen enough for one lifetime."

"But everything you've worked so hard for..."

"Can be used in a different way... I'd still be a doctor. I could still work at the clinic from time to time. It's not final. It's just an option I'm exploring. Do you remember how excited I was when I delivered that calf? Or how much fun it was giving exams to Radar's pets? It made me feel something different, something less complicated." Trapper covers Hawkeye's hand with his own. He laces their fingers and gives them a tender squeeze. "I'm just thinking about it, but I think it has the potential to be something new and challenging and maybe kind of great."

Hawkeye gets lost in Trapper's smiling eyes. It sounds like something that would make Trapper happy and Hawkeye wants Trapper to be happy. He deserves it. "You're amazing at everything you put your mind to and I think you'd make a terrific veterinarian if that's what you want to do."

"Plus he could still visit Mrs. Simchuck and her twelve cats!" Daniel laughs. 

Trapper lets out a disparaged groan and Hawkeye squeezes his hand. "I pummel her if she lays a finger on you."

They all bellow with laughter at the notion of Hawkeye picking a fight with a senior citizen. "My hero," Trapper swoons.

"So," Daniel tries to bring the conversation back around, "Hawkeye, you never told me what you thought of the house John built for you..."

It was strange. Hawkeye hadn't thought of it that way. He had seen it entirely as Trapper's house. He and Trapper had barely talked, there was so much to catch up on that the grand gesture had been lost on him. He was trying to come up with a snappy, upbeat response that would answer the question without answering the question. When he finally looked up from his plate, he realized he'd taken far too much time to reply. His father's staring at him and now Trapper is the one examining the pattern on his empty plate. He's was at a total loss. His eyes well up and he lets out a helpless whimper. 

Trapper lays a sympathetic hand on his knee. "It's been a big day. You don't have to say anything. You don't have to feel anything about the house right now. Why don't you go rest? Take some time..."

"Time for what?" Daniel is baffled by his son's silence. "Last night you were practically hysterical over how much you needed to find this man and have him in your life. Now he's here offering you everything you've ever wanted and you're not sure? I don't understand you, Ben. Life's too short. You should know that by now. You have a real shot at something here. What's there to hesitate about?"

"Daniel, that's enough. This really isn't fair..." McIntyre attempts to interject and fails.

Hawkeye talks over him, "John is a good man, dad. Too good. He has always done what he thinks he should do. I don't want to be an obligation. I don't want him to regret risking everything." Hawkeye stands up abruptly. He's a bundle of raw nerves. "I'm not worth it."

"Hawk..."

"No. Stop. I'm fine. I just need to be excused please." He pulls away from Trapper who is reaching out to him. He walks quickly inside but not before mumbling an apology for leaving them a mess to clean up.

Daniel shakes his head and McIntyre glares daggers at him. "What the hell was that?"

"My son can be a real idiot sometimes."

"Your son is suffering from post-traumatic stress and our entire relationship is directly tied to those events. The last time we saw each other I was having him sent away for a psych evaluation and I was gone when he got back. He has every reason to be careful. Father or no, you have no right to pressure him into more than he can handle." Daniel laughs which makes Trapper more irate. Two Pierces was a lot more to take on than he'd ever considered. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"You're just proving my point. You're the right person for my son and he's going to push you away."

"He can't. I won't let him. I am here for the long haul."

"That's a relief to know." Daniel seems content to let it go for the time being. He starts to stack the plates and cutlery. "C'mon lover boy, help an old man clean up." 

Trapper reluctantly obliges forcing down the impulse to go check on Hawkeye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this isn't an epilogue like I'd planned. I'm not sure what the official rule is on epilogues but I'm pretty sure they aren't supposed to be upwards of 30 pages long and counting. I just love these characters so much. There's more to come soon but I thought an update was warranted. 
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> Again, I own nothing. I just love. <3


	8. The Peace Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters are read and questions are answered by firelight.

Darkness falls without so much as a peep from Hawkeye. Trapper hopes he's catching the shut eye he so desperately needs. He helps Daniel clean up in relative silence. It's been a big day for McIntyre too and he’s starting to feel more than a little raw.

As he walks back to the house he's been working so hard to build, he wonders what would happen if Hawkeye turned him down. Trapper had nowhere else to go. He'd put everything he had left after his divorce into this small sanctuary. He wanted to call Hawkeye and Crabapple Cove his home.

There's a hint of a chill in the air, a sign that autumn is creeping closer. Trapper gathers up some wood scraps and a few logs he'd split earlier and brings them inside. Tonight would be as good a night as any to test out the fireplace. He heads inside and swiftly arranges old newspaper around the wood scraps in the hearth and adds a couple of logs on top leaving plenty of space for the fire to breath. Trapper strikes a match and is relieved when the scraps seem to light without too much fuss. He waits and watches to see if the larger logs catch and once they do is content to head upstairs where he strips slowly and changes into a pair of pajama pants. He carries his trusty yellow robe back to the fire with him just in case he gets cold but for the time being, he's as comfortable as he can be. He grabs a few large books off the kitchen table and lays them out on the carpet in front of the fire before laying down on the floor beside them. 

Doc Porter had lent him the anatomy books for research purposes and he'd been carefully working his way through them ever since. He'd done some very fundamental studying of the insides of dogs, cats, cows and now he was progressing onto horses. It was such a relief to be able to concentrate on learning something new and be able to focus on the possibility of having a future different from the one he was always fighting with. On top of the drama in his personal life, he was also plagued with sleepless nights and waking nightmares. He’d close his eyes and see armies of young men, women and children bleeding to death and he knew he was incapable of helping them all. He would try, fail and drown in their blood. One of them would almost always be Hawkeye. He’d shake and sweat and cry and there was nothing anyone could do for him. His intense case of the DT’s didn’t help either. Having a new purpose helped save him from that. First it was the house and now re-educating himself. It helped him to heal.

Trapper had written to Radar when he'd first started thinking about veterinary school. The ex-corporal seemed elated by the idea and was flattered to have been a part of what inspired the change. As always, Trapper asked about Hawkeye. There was nothing new to say. Radar had been home for months and had only received the odd communication from camp. He commiserated with Trapper. He never really got to say goodbye to Hawkeye either. Trapper promised they'd have him for a visit if things ever worked themselves out. Radar suggested that maybe Trapper could come visit his farm as well, get some hands-on experience. It was agreed that one way or another they would make it happen.

Once he'd examined the external anatomy chart for long enough, he turned the page to the skeletal chart. It never failed to fill him with wonder that people and animals were just this collection of parts that somehow manage to all fit and function together. And when they didn't, he was someone with the rare ability to fix it. But now he was considering patients that couldn’t tell him where it hurts. He was going to have to be sharper, more in tune with his instincts and a better diagnostician. The challenged sparked an excitement in him he hadn’t felt for a long time. 

He turns the page to the internal anatomy chart and is startled out of his studying by an urgent knock at the door. He scrambles up knowing it could only be one of two people. Trapper can see Hawkeye through the glass window. He’s wrapped up in a blanket and holding the shoe box full of letters. McIntyre takes a deep breath and opens the door. 

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

“What’s going on? You okay?”

Hawkeye nods and forces a smile. “I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been sitting down by the water. I noticed your light was still on…”

“Come in…” Trapper encourages. As Hawkeye passes by he can see that he’s trembling, but he stays quiet. “Can I get you anything? Fix you a drink or get you something to eat?”

Hawkeye shakes his head, “No, thank you.” He’s looking up at Trapper with those big blue eyes and Trapper gets lost. He reaches out to hold that face in his palm and Hawkeye leans in and closes his eyes. 

“You’re freezing. Come sit…” He leads Pierce over to where he’s been studying. “I’m sorry for the lack of… well, everything. It’s a work in progress.”

Hawkeye ignores the excuses about the lack of furnishings and kneels down next to the books. “What’s this?”

“Research,” Trapper grins. Hawkeye puts down the shoe box and starts casually flipping pages. Trapper leaves the room momentarily and comes back with another blanket and a few pillows. “Here.” He wraps the blanket around Hawkeye’s shoulders and places the pillows on the ground sitting on one of them. Hawkeye takes his pillow and places it under his elbows as he lays down on his stomach and continues to peruse the texts. Trapper notices his bare feet and legs sticking out behind him. He lays a hand on Hawkeye’s calf and again, it’s freezing too. “What were you doing out there?”

“Thinking mostly. Wading a little. You’re really serious about this veterinary thing, aren’t you?” Trapper tries to shrug it off, but Hawkeye sees through him. “It’s really great Trap. You never fail to amaze me.” They stare at each other for a moment and Trapper feels the heat rising in his cheeks. “I don’t want to interrupt your work. Do you mind if I just sit here with you? I promise I’ll be quiet. I brought my own reading material…”

“Of course.”

Hawkeye passes Trapper back his book and he goes back to reading but only sort of. Hawkeye is always in his peripheral. He watches as he bundles the blankets around himself tighter and moves closer to the fire. The reflection of the flames dance in his eyes. He seems hypnotised by them. Trapper turns a page and pretends to examine the equine digestive tract. He’s not registering much of anything. It’s taking him all his power to not reach out and touch him. He turns another page. He might as well seem like he’s getting somewhere in his book. 

After a few minutes, Hawkeye reaches for the shoe box and opens the lid. Trapper can feel himself holding his breath. He doesn’t know which letter Hawkeye has pulled out but now he’s reading too, and Trapper would give anything to know what was going on inside his head. He’s completely dropped the pretense of studying and is watching Hawkeye as he scans each line. Trapper’s trying to make out the subtle changes in his facial expression. His lip curls upwards and then falls back into a frown. He wrinkles his brow and puts the letter down. 

“I can’t focus.”

Trapper laughs softly, “You too, huh?”

“It’s hard to read your writing.”

McIntyre raises an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“Ya, it’s all dramatic and loopy and all over the place.” Hawkeye pushes the letter towards Trapper. “I can’t make heads or tails of it… but maybe you can…”

A half smile, “Are you asking me to read to you?” 

“If you’re able to make sense of this chicken scratch…”

Trapper picks up the letter and skims the first couple of lines. He knows exactly which letter this is, and his chest tightens. “Are you sure? These are really… personal…”

“Who better to read me something personal than the person who wrote it?”

Hawkeye’s eyes are doing the pleading for him and Trapper can do nothing but surrender. He nods and takes a deep breath. He reads in a low, steady voice.

“Dear Hawk,   
Had I known the last time was going to be the last time, I would have never let you go. You spent that night clinging to me so tight a part of me wonders if you knew. Your finger prints were bruised into my flesh for days. It made me miserable to watch them fade away. I loved you more than I knew loving someone was possible and I am so sorry I was forced to leave you behind. I'm so sorry that you will never come home to me. I had so many plans for us. Be at peace, Hawk. Rest and wait for me. I'll try not to be too long.   
All my love, John.” 

Both men are silent. The fire crackles and pops. Trapper lowers his head as if he’s been transported back to that horrible time. He looks so drained and defeated. Hawkeye slips an icy hand into Trapper’s. Their fingers tenderly weave together, and Trapper observes them. “I thought you were dead.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Hawkeye scoots himself closer, so they are shoulder to shoulder. “Read me another one?”

“Hawk…” Trapper hesitates, and Hawkeye leans his face into McIntyre’s bare shoulder.

“Please…” Hawkeye squeezes his hand and drops another letter in his lap. 

“How can I say no to that face?” He picks up the letter and unfolds it with his free hand. Hawkeye nuzzles in as if reading over his shoulder. 

“Dear Hawk,   
Home isn't home anymore. You are home. I'm stuck here, and you're stuck over there. I’m homesick for you. Everyone here is a stranger. Becky ran and hid the moment I walked through the front door. My own baby girl is terrified of me. She doesn't recognize me at all. When Kathy hugged me she was full of giggles and she whispered in my ear that she knew a secret. Shortly after Louise received my letter, I found out that the secret was that she'd been bringing home her divorce lawyer for months. The girls know him and trust him more than they do me. The funny thing is, it's fine. It hurts like hell, but I know it’s for the best and it’s no less than I deserve. At Boston General, everyone seems to think the war is a joke and that it's something that will just run off my back now that I'm home. People who barely knew me before are making assumptions about me; assuming that Louise will be pregnant any day now or saying that it must have been so great to have served my country. They say it'll all be for the greater good. Fuck they make me mad. I hate it here. The only greater good was you and me. I miss you. I miss your laugh. I miss the noises you make in your sleep. I miss the way you taste. I miss the way your body feels next to mine. I hope you can forgive me. We tried so hard to find you. I wish I knew what happened to you. I won’t be home again until you’re back in my arms.   
With all my love, John.” 

This time it was Hawkeye who hung his head. Luckily, he had Trapper’s broad shoulder to hide his face in. “You never did tell me where you went.”

A small mumble, “Opium den.”

“What?”

“It’s not what I intended but it’s where I ended up. I’m so sorry, Trap. I’m sorry about your girls too.”

Trapper just sits processing the new information. “Let me get this straight… you read my note, skipped out on Tokyo and decided hiding out in a drug den was the best way to work things out?”

“No! I was saving the note for the flight, but I got too scared to board the plane. I bolted. I walked for hours and I stopped at the first place that I could. I forgot about the note. I messed myself up really bad. I didn’t remember I had the note until the morning I came home.”

“And?”

“And, the moment I did, I tried to get back to you as fast as I could. When I got back, you were gone. I went AWOL to try and meet you at the airport, but I missed you by ten minutes.”

Trapper lets out of pitiful laugh, “I went AWOL trying to find you too. Frank had me arrested.” Hawkeye’s eyes go wide. He lets go of Trapper’s hand and wraps his arms around his waist, still nuzzling his face into his shoulder. “I take it no one told you.” He feels Hawkeye shake his head no and hold him tighter. “I guess there’s a lot both of us don’t know.” Hawkeye nods yes. “I bet a lot of it is going to hurt.” Hawkeye nods again and Trapper sighs. “How do you want to do this then? Do we make it a slow burn, or do we tear it off like a Band-Aid?”

“I’d say it’s more like resetting a bone…”

“That bad, huh?” Trapper turns to face Hawkeye as best he can. Pierce is still using his shoulder to shield himself. His eyes peer up, and they tell Trapper everything he needs to know. “Listen, I only need to know what you need to tell me. Nothing you tell me is going to change the way I feel about you.”

Hawkeye shakes his head again. “How can you know that?”

“Because I know you.”

“So knowing that I was out of my mind fucked up for three days straight on opium while you were being busy being arrested, doesn’t affect how you feel about me?”

“We’ve both had our share of being blat toed. If anything bothers me, it’s that you could have really gotten hurt. You don’t know where that stuff came from or what was in it. It could have caused some serious damage.”

“I really didn’t care, Trap. I just wanted not to feel.”

“Did it work?”

Hawkeye lets out a sigh, “No. My fears were all still there when I came to. The only thing that wasn’t there was you.”

Trapper feels those words like a knife to the back. He knows they aren’t meant that way but there’s nothing he can do to escape the guilt of being the one that left. “I considered re-enlisting you know… briefly…but the girls… the commitment was 5 years. It didn’t make sense. I had Radar check your points. By all accounts you should have been home a few months after me.”

“They changed the point system.”

More silence. It was oddly comfortable in spite of the tone of their conversation. Trapper stood up to add another log to the fire. He adjusted it with the poker and watched as sparks rose up the flue. He didn’t say anything, but he was feeling pretty proud of his work. He’d laid all the stones for the fireplace himself. He loved the shadows it was throwing around the empty space especially the one playing across Hawkeye’s face. There he was half in dark and half in light. That was the way Hawkeye had always been. A little darkness and a little anger never bothered Trapper. It actually tempted him more often than he was willing to confess. But Hawkeye’s darkness was worn on his sleeve, right there next to his bleeding heart, his passion and his sense of humour. It was undeniably a part of what made him the person he was, the person Trapper loved. There’s something Trapper has been thinking about for weeks and he cautiously dares to mention it. “Do you think you could tell me why you were hospitalized?”

Hawkeye is taken back by the question. He wasn’t expecting that at all. “The same reasons you tried to send me off to see Sidney, I’d imagine.” 

Trapper doesn’t miss a beat, “You tried to run into the minefield again?”

“What? No! And I told you, that wasn’t what I was trying to do. I was upset about Henry!”

“So, you were still upset about Henry?”

Hawkeye lowers his eyes, “I will always be upset about Henry. Don’t you even pretend to tell me that you’ve made peace with what happened to him.”

“No. I haven’t. I still lose sleep over it. But was that why you were committed?”

“Committed? Is that what Sidney told you? What else did he say about me?” Hawkeye glares and recoils from Trapper. He tries to stand up and bolt away, but Trapper has his blanket. Hawkeye drops it and stumbles backwards, but Trapper is on his feet to catch him. 

“No. I told you, Sidney and I never discussed your case. Your father showed me a letter from your Colonel… That’s all, I swear… I’m sorry, I know it wasn’t for my eyes, but he insisted I should know. I only know that you’d been hospitalized under Sidney’s care for a few weeks and that he was circling around diagnosing you with a nervous disorder. That’s it.” The tension in Pierce dissipates a little. Trapper holds up the blanket and Hawkeye , who Trapper realizes now was only in his boxers and a t-shirt, walks towards it and allows Trapper to wrap it back around him. He uses the blanket to keep Hawkeye close long enough to search his eyes. Trapper’s forehead rests against his and they take a breath together. “If you’re not ready to tell me, it’s okay. I’m just worried about you. I want to make sure you’re getting all the help you need.”

“I’m a doctor too, remember? I’m fine. At least as fine as I can be under the circumstances… Sure everything I eat comes back up within a few hours… And I thought Igor’s cooking was trouble before? Ha, now I realize it’s hijacked my stomach and I can’t handle real food. I can’t sleep at night without being medicated. Apparently, I miss the symphony of Charles’s snoring and BJ’s smelly feet stomping around. My thoughts race all day long, the slightest noises make my jump out of my skin and the sight of small children gives me the cold sweats, but other than that, I’m right as rain.” 

“Children?” Trapper questions cocking his head to the side. “What was that about children?”

Hawkeye back peddles, “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’ll get over it.”

“Hawk… not that you are going back to work right away but half of your father’s practice is children. My girls happen to still be children. If there is something I should know about before I introduce you to them, you should tell me…”

“You’d introduce me to your girls?” Hawkeye seemed shocked. Touched even.

“Of course I would. They absolutely loved your dad. I’m sure they’d love you too.”

“Wait a minute, what? They’ve met my dad?”

“They came for a visit in June. It’s a part of the custody agreement. I get to have them stay with me one weekend a month. I can visit them whenever I want. It’s just been a lot with the house and the practice. They really seemed to like it here. That was until that crab pinched Kathy’s toe but I’m sure she’ll get over it. You’re dad patched her up good as new. Told her that she’d have to get used to crab cuddles if she wanted to become a mermaid. It was cute.”

Dumbfounded, Hawkeye made his way back to the fire. He knelt down and just stared into the flames blankly. “So much has happened…”

Trapper settles back down beside him. “You still haven’t told me what happened to you.” This time he rests his head on Hawkeye’s shoulder and massages his back through the blanket. “I want to hear about you.” Hawkeye turns his face and Trapper is met with those blue eyes, once again a deep well of sorrow. He places a soft kiss on his cheek and grazes his nose against the soft skin there. “Please.”

“It’s stupid really. We had no business being out there. We had all gotten way too comfortable. I mean, who takes the day off to go to the beach in the middle of a warzone? The beach part was fine. It was the bus ride home that was treacherous. We had no business being out there, Trap…” Hawkeye’s shoulders started to tremble again but this time it wasn’t from the cold. His hands clench and unclench the blanket as he tries to find the words. “We were driving through what we thought was safe terrain. We kept picking up refugees and wounded. The soldiers that joined us warned of a nearby enemy patrol, told us to kill the lights, keep quiet and hide the bus in the bushes. The tension was unbearable. And there was a baby on the bus…”Hawkeye shakes his head vigorously and Trapper pulls him closer and holds him tighter. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you after what I did…”

“Hawk… what happened?”

“It wouldn’t stop crying. No matter what the mother did, it just kept screaming. I was terrified that we were going to get captured so I stormed up to that poor woman and I yelled at her to keep that thing quiet… and then it was… because she smothered it to death!… I looked over at her and she was weeping, and the baby’s head hung limp in her arms and I realized what I had done… I took that life, Trap… I did that! I couldn’t shake it. I just got worse and worse. Or so I was told. I still don’t remember much of it. Sidney told me that I drove a jeep into the Officer’s Club and that I accused an anesthesiologist for smothering a patient and I actually jumped him. I guess I supressed most of it until Colonel Potter had me sent away. I remember being locked in that dark room with bars on the windows well enough. I was in so much denial I tried to tell Sidney it was a chicken… but it was a little baby girl… only three months old. She’s buried up by the helipad where I helped Margaret bury a stray dog that got run over by an ambulance… she deserved better, Trap. She deserved you. She’d still be alive if she was on that bus with you…”

Hawkeye is sobbing, he’s still trying to talk but none of the words are making sense. Trapper is holding him as tight as he can. He hushes him and pulls him into his lap. He attempts to rock him back and forth. Hawkeye was right. His story has left Trapper speechless and with a sick knot in his gut. He doesn’t have any words for him, but he remains unfaltering as Hawkeye clings to him for solace. It takes a long while for Hawkeye to settle down any. When he finally catches his breath, he stares up at Trapper whose honey eyes are locked onto his. McIntyre runs his hands through his mussed-up locks. He observes all the patches of grey where there used to be jet black and notices the more pronounced worry lines on Hawkeye’s forehead before he tries to kiss them away. 

“You’re not saying anything…” Hawkeye looks terrified.

Trapper takes his hands and shakes his head, “Hawk, that poor kid is a casualty of war not a casualty of you. I don’t know what I would have done in that situation and I hope I never live to find out. It’s very possible that her crying could have gotten everyone on that bus killed. No, that wouldn’t have been her fault, but it’s a reality. A lot more people would have died had that squad wiped out the majority of a MASH unit. She existed briefly in a terrible place and time and it’s neither of your fault. I don’t feel any differently about you, ok? I’m only sorry you had to go through that alone. But guess what, you’re not alone anymore.” Hawkeye sniffles and lets Trapper wipe the tears from his cheeks. McIntyre rearranges the pillows on the floor and encourages Hawkeye to lay his head on them. He does, facing what’s left of the fire. McIntyre lays down behind Pierce and curls his arms around his waist and kisses his shoulder. He smiles when Hawkeye takes his hand in his. “I know that was hard. Thank you for telling me.”

Hawkeye’s fingers touch and trace Trapper’s delicately. “Thank you for loving me,” he whispers back. 

“I’ll always love you, Hawk.”

“Trap?”

“Ya Hawk?”

“Read me another letter…”

And without hesitation, Trapper does.

………

 

When light starts to stream into the large bay windows and the sun slowly starts to make its ascent into the sky, Hawkeye kisses Trapper ever so chastely goodbye and makes his way back to his father's house. He felt like he was seventeen again creeping through the back door, making sure the screen closed without so much as a squeak of hinges. He would have almost made it too had he not got his blanket caught in the door. After he trips and curses, he hears a laugh coming from the kitchen. He’s met with his father’s grinning face and the smell of fresh brewed coffee. 

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in..." Daniel stirs his coffee and takes a short sip, staring down his son from behind the rim of the mug. 

Hawkeye covers his face in embarrassment but then stops himself, "We were just talking. We have a lot to talk about." 

"That's good," Daniel smiles as Hawkeye slinks past him and up the stairs. "Can I make you some breakfast?"

"Maybe later. I need to get some sleep."

And for the first time in god knows how long, he slept without aid or interruption.   
………

Hawkeye returns by starlight to visit Trapper every night that week. During the day they are platonic, well-behaved army buddies. Trapper helps Hawkeye shop for new clothes that fit him, they visit the local beaches together, they run errands, they go out for meals, Trapper goes to the clinic for a few hours here and there and Hawkeye putters around his father’s house. At night, they are ex-lovers working through their demons. Hawkeye continues to make Trapper read through the stash of letters a handful each night. Other times Hawkeye just sits in silence as Trapper studies, and sometimes they say the things they need to say. Trapper explains to Hawkeye more about what happened to him when he came home; about Louise taking a few swings at him before letting him know he wasn’t the only one who’d moved on, about his dad agreeing to take him in when he was basically homeless, and grief stricken. He talks about the relief of finding out Hawkeye was alive and the decision to go ahead and build the house. 

“I needed a place to live. I needed a project. I needed something to show you that I meant what I asked. I couldn’t buy you a ring. I mean, I could, I would if you wanted one, but where could you wear it without it being the subject of scrutiny and speculation? A house felt like a step towards our future. Given that you were interested in having a future with me.” 

Hawkeye tells Trapper about saying goodbye to everyone and jokes that he may have swallowed one of Margaret’s tonsils. He confesses to being less than faithful and Trapper confesses that he hasn’t touched anyone else since the last time he made love to Hawkeye. His eyes are burning twice as bright as the fire as he says it. In spite of it being Trapper’s confession, Hawkeye the one who feels exposed. 

“No... impossible…” He disregards the statement because he can’t possibly believe it and he can’t bare to meet Trapper’s gaze. 

Trapper’s half smiles and lets out a chuckle, “Does that really sound like something I would brag about to you?”

Pierce thinks about all the times before they discovered each other when they would regale   
one another with tales of conquest and sexual prowess. Trapper McIntyre was a force to be reckoned with. “No… I guess not.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait for me. I know what it’s like there. I get it. But I had to wait for you. I didn’t want anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.” Hawkeye’s fingertips brush against Trapper’s and Trapper’s flex to caress Hawkeye’s. They share a long look. Hawkeye gulps and his eyes and hand retreat. Trapper laughs. “I’m okay, Hawk and you’re safe here. I’m not that volatile. I’m happy to wait for you.”

Hawkeye smiles, his hand returns to Trapper’s and he sidles close enough to rest his head on his shoulder. “Read me another letter?”

Trapper nods using his bare foot to kick the shoebox closer. There are only a handful of ones left to read. It’s been a painful yet cathartic process going through all of these with Hawkeye here beside him. As he unfolds the paper, Hawkeye tugs the blanket closer and wraps it around himself and Trapper. The gesture sends a warmth through McIntyre’s chest. He can’t help but tenderly kiss Hawkeye on the forehead. Hawkeye leans in closer and closes his eyes.

Trapper begins reading,   
“I saw you on the television tonight. One minute I'm discussing the news with your father and the next I'm back there. I can taste the air. Hear the shelling. Smell the blood. You look so fragile. Like the months have eaten away at you. It breaks my heart that I can't reach through the screen and hold you. I can't help notice how you can't make eye contact with anything. You evade direct answers. I don't hear most of what you’re saying because I’m worried. You sound like you have a cold. It makes me wonder if you're keeping warm enough, if you're sleeping, if somebody is keeping you warm while you sleep. The train of thought kills me. I stare at you trying take in every little detail that I can. I want you to look right at me and somehow know I'm there looking right back at you. Other familiar faces look into the camera and I'm filled with so many conflicting thoughts. Margaret looks good. Sad. But good. There are tears in her eyes as she fusses over her appearance. I still want to slug Frank but even he seems off (which is incredible because of how off he is the begin with). Your new Colonel seems like he has his shit together. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you. Klinger is Klinger. I miss defending his honour and frivolity. Then just when I think I can't feel any worse, Radar alludes to losing Henry. It's like a million tiny deaths every time. I remember every pain, every mistake, every regret. I miss them all. I miss Henry. But it's nothing compared to how much I miss you. I feel like a part of myself is lost and I'm grateful for this opportunity to see your face, but it only makes me miss you more. Please be safe and come home to me soon. I'm nothing without you. Love, John.”

They are both quiet, but Hawkeye takes Trapper’s hand in both of his. “How did you know I had a cold?”

Trapper can’t help but laugh a little. “When you are stuffed up it sounds like your words are coming out your nose instead of your mouth.”

Hawkeye makes a face and blinks twice considering the observation. “Well, who’s fault is that? I wasn’t sleeping, and I did not have a regular bed warmer. You know how cold it gets there.” Trapper chuckles. “I was hoping you’d see that, you know? I was thinking about you the whole time. I didn’t want the camera to see just how bad I was feeling. I didn’t want to scare my dad.”

“Seeing you alive was all that really mattered to either of us.” 

They talked about everything Trapper had missed back at camp. Margaret’s marriage and subsequent divorce, Klinger’s divorce and subsequent marriage, Radar getting wounded and how he and Hawkeye had it out after that.   
“It really shook me to my core, Trap. I know we’ve moved on. I know he’s still my friend, but I can’t believe I was so cruel to him.”

“Guilt will do that.”

“But it was Radar, you know? I hate that side of myself.”

“I know.” 

“I swear not only could I feel everyone else hating me, but I knew Henry would hate me too. I know he would have raked me over the coals. It’s something I’d come to expect from Potter or Margaret, but Henry… when Henry was genuinely angry at you…”

“I remember…”

“That look of disappointment was the worst.” 

Trapper nods, “Radar recovered though, and you made peace. That’s all that matters. Henry would be proud that his kids have grown up and could work things out on their own…”

“Maybe…”

McIntyre can see Hawkeye’s mood falling and he wants to change the subject to something lighter, “I’ll probably regret asking this, but whatever happened to Frank?”

Hawkeye’s eyes light up. “Oh my God, you don’t know!” He starts to laugh to himself and Trapper is happy he played the right card. “You’re never going to believe this…”

Hawkeye regales Trapper with Frank’s decent into madness over Margaret’s marriage. How he flew the coup and followed her on her honeymoon and ended up accosting a parade of blondes in restaurants, clubs and bathhouses. They’re both laughing madly until the real punch line about Frank being promoted and sent stateside. 

“Mother fucker!” Trapper utters in disbelief and Hawkeye snickers.

“That’s the army for you.”

“Ya, but, what were they thinking?” 

Hawkeye gushes at the look on Trapper’s face. He laughs and rolls and kicks his feet. “Thinking? In the army? You’ve clearly been home too long…”

“I guess if he can be a Major, why not a Lieutenant Colonel… at least he’s a desk and not malpracticing anymore…”

“Saving lives at last! Plus, he was finally out of our hair. It gave us a chance to get in some real surgical talent, however pompous…”In describing Charles Emerson Winchester the III to Trapper something struck a chord. 

“Wait… Winchester… tall, balding, Bostonian with an English accent, works at Boston Mercy?”

Hawkeye’s eyes widen, “His reputation proceeds him?”

“I’ve seen him lecture… and lecture… and lecture. His family is very upper crust back home. Everyone knows of the Emersons and the Winchesters. What was he doing at a MASH unit?”

“Pissed off the wrong General.”

“That’s…. amazing! How did he handle it?”

“Like a prince… who whined and complained and begged to go home at every turn. He’s alright though. It took some getting used to, but he could sure operate and when he wasn’t talking out his ass, he could be funny and warm. Just don’t let him know I said that.”

"And your other bunkie? Hunnicutt?"

"BJ."

"What does the BJ stand for anyway?"

Hawkeye brings his palm to his face. "Don't get me started..." Trapper raises a suspicious eyebrow and it takes Hawkeye a second, "Oh God no! Not that! Get your head out of the gutter…"

"You can't tell me that joke never crossed your mind."

"I... shut up!"

Trapper practically barks he's laughing so hard. Once their laugher ebbs he ask, "So?"

"So?... What? What do you want me to say?"

"The truth." Trapper gives Hawkeye the long side eye. He shudders under the scrutiny. "Is this a touchy subject?"

"I don't know...” Hawkeye shrugs. “I really glommed onto BJ after you left... I missed you so damn much and he was just there and shiny and new. I couldn't leave him to Frank, now could I? Beej and I were really close...I thought...Not you and me close... BJ lives and breathes for his wife and daughter… often to the detriment of those around him. He tended to lash out at those closest to him which was odd because most of the time he came off as quiet and unassuming. He called himself my best friend. But it was more than that. Sometimes less than that. We fought like family. Near the end though it felt like he was ashamed of me. Disappointed, maybe. Like I should have been able to continue shouldering the war the way I always had. To be fair, everyone was awkward around me, but it was hard to watch him struggle to converse with me. He got his orders while I was in the hospital. Left without saying goodbye. It was a surreal thing to have happen twice. I felt like garbage. It was pretty intense when he got sent back. I don't really understand how. Another army snafu I guess. It was just non-stop casualties for days straight and then goodbye. It hurts still. I miss him. He lives on the opposite coast. I'll probably never see him again... Maybe it's for the best…"

McIntyre is frowning and balling his hands, "It's definitely for the best that he and I don't cross paths."

"Jealous?" 

A smirk, "Of someone who makes you feel that way about yourself? Never."

"He was so jealous of you..." Hawkeye says. Trapper raises an eyebrow. "Because you got to go home. He brought your name up more than I did."

"You know how little sense that makes, right?" 

Hawkeye smirks, "It also bothered him that you were the reigning practical joker..."

"Did you tell him that none of those things mattered to me? That the only thing there that mattered to me was you."

"No...I don't think he would have understood me and you. I could be wrong. I mean, we made jokes all the time… we were usually on the same side… But when I talked about my dad, BJ disregarded how much I missed him. He was pretty headstrong in thinking he was the only one with people to live for. That made me stop sharing that part of myself. Margaret gave him the what for on more than one occasion, but I don't think it ever really sank in."

"Sounds like a self-righteous asshole..."

"Trap..."

"Seriously, you're better off."

"I loved him, Trap. In spite of all the shit that's coming out of my crazy, stupid mouth, I loved him. We took care of each other. We had fun together..."

"I'm sure you did. That's who you are. But it also sounds like you gave more than you got back, and it left you hurt and I’m sorry for that." 

Hawkeye shrugs and fidgets with the edge of his blanket. “It’s over now.”

“Not if it’s still bothering you.”

“It’s not.”

Trapper lets the lie go. He’s pushed his point enough. “Give it some time. Maybe you’ll get your friend back. I’m sure you had plenty of shit to say about me when I left too.”

“I didn’t though. I didn’t talk about you. BJ was there, and you weren’t and there was nothing I could say that would change that, so I didn’t talk about you. I pushed it all down as far as I could. Like I said, BJ brought you up more than I did…” 

McIntyre considers Pierce’s words, “Maybe we’ve got it all wrong then. Maybe he wanted to know this side of you. Maybe he was just fishing…”

That observation seemed to bring Hawkeye’s spirits up a little, “BJ does love to fish…”

“Look, I wasn’t there. I don’t know anything other than what you’ve said. I don’t want to keep you from anyone you want in your life. I love you so much. My instincts are to protect you and protect this. But if this person is really like family, if you love him, then maybe you should tell him what you’ve been keeping from him… and maybe I’ll hold off on passing judgement.”

“Thanks Trap.” 

McIntyre nods and brushes Hawkeye’s hair off his face. Hawkeye smiles and leans in for a soft kiss. And then another. His hand caresses Trapper’s strong jaw, his thumb grazing the stubble there. They stare at each other for a long time and Trapper leans in to take Hawkeye’s mouth once more. It’s tantalizing delicate with just a taste of tongue and he smiles when he can feel Hawkeye try to take the kiss deeper. He stops him being a firm believer in the idea of always leaving them wanting more. “It’s almost dawn…” Hawkeye nods, his eyelids are heavy. “You’re more than welcome to crash here if you’re too tired to walk back…”

Hawkeye smiles and shakes his head. “No, I should go…”

“One for the road?”

“Yes please.”

Trapper picks a letter out of the box.

“Dear Hawkeye,  
Today we laid the foundation of what I hope will be our home. The plans are modest but it’s a huge undertaking for a neophyte like me. I hope more than anything that this is a step forward for us. That when you see it, you see the possibilities of a life spent together. With every step of its design, I had you in mind. The large windows so that you can always see the ocean, the garden that reminds me of our song, the fireplace for a lifetime of warmth and contentment together, the loft where I hope we spend a part of everyday making love and when we aren’t, we’re dreaming dreams of each other. I miss you so much and I am ridden with guilt everyday about being the one who was sent home first. I hope that this gesture somehow makes it up to you. I hope you look at it and understand that I did nothing but live for you every day we were apart. I hope it is a place you’ll never want to leave. Love always, John.”

He watches Hawkeye with his wide eyes and parted lips. He thinks he can see him changing his mind about where to spend the night, but Trapper doesn’t give him the chance. He helps him stand up and walks the speechless Hawkeye to the door. He kisses him on the forehead and says, “Goodnight Hawk.”

Hawkeye blinks a few times before whispering, “Goodnight Trap,” and slowly walks back to the main house. As Pierce distances himself from the coach house he realizes how badly he wants to turn back but he keeps walking away in spite of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek! I put in a sold 20 hours of writing and editing over the past two days. I'm pretty content with it. I hope you are too. The next chapter is already well underway :) 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think. I love to hear from you. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> And as always, I don't own these characters and if I did I would not be worrying about going into work in the morning, so... there's that.


	9. Armistice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye decides to put an end to the war within himself.

It was another beautiful late summer afternoon. The sky was a bright blue and was filled with cottony white clouds. The ocean was gently sweeping the shore and a calm breeze pushed the leaves of the willow tree Hawkeye was sitting under back and forth. He was alone reading his box of letters while Daniel and Trapper were working at the coach house. He hadn't slept much the night before. Thoughts of Trapper working so hard to make amends, to build a life and a home for him were dancing though his head. As were his kisses and just about everything else about him. Hawkeye felt himself blush and even though he was alone, he hid his smile in his sleeve. He still didn't think he deserved Trapper, but he was starting to think more and more that he wanted him anyway. 

From his perch on top of the coach house roof, Trapper alternated between watching Hawkeye and nailing in shingles. Daniel, who was squat down next to him, noticed his shifting focus. "You know you can take a break if you want. I've got things under control up here." 

The heat rises in Trapper’s cheeks. "No…” Sigh. “I'm fine... it's just, I think we're getting somewhere. Look at him… he’s so…” he laughs saving the thought for himself and finishing, “I'm really happy he's found some peace."

Daniel claps a hand on his back before handing him another nail. Trapper doesn't notice. He’s frozen. Daniel tilts his head in confusion. It's that all too familiar noise. Trapper had gotten used to hearing it as a civilian but as he turned back to where Hawkeye had been tranquil a moment before, he was now staring up into the sky, covering his ears and screaming in a frenzy. 

"Shit," Trapper exclaims jumping up and practically throwing himself down the ladder. 

Chopper.

He was tearing after Hawkeye at full speed and as he got closer he could make out the words he was screaming. It was heart wrenching. 

"Leave me alone! Why are you following me? I can't help you anymore! Go away! Stop it! I can't! I can't save you!" Hawkeye was hysterical. 

Trapper throws his arms around him. He's trying to be calm and soothing ,but Hawkeye won't stop screaming. The only difference is now he's screaming at him. "Why won't they stop coming? The war is over... why do they keep fighting? Why do they keep killing each other? How did they find me here? Why won't they leave me alone?" 

Trapper didn't have any answers. He could feel Hawkeye's pulse hammering away and he saw the moment when Hawkeye lost his breath and started to hyperventilate. He didn't have anything for him to breath into, so he did the only thing he could think of to bring him back to reality. Trapper half carried, half dragged a kicking and screaming Hawkeye into the ocean hoping the cold water would shock him back to his senses. He's still whispering and encouraging and calming as he lowers them both into the waves, all the while being kicked and swung at. He dunks Hawkeye's head and brings him up quickly. Hawkeye sputters for breath but he's slowing down. He takes a few fast feral looks around as if trying to track the chopper's whereabouts. 

"It's gone. It's okay, Hawk. It was just the coast guard." They are both soaking wet sitting in the shallow waves. Hawkeye is just staring at him still in shock breathing heavily but to Trapper's relief at least he's breathing. Once he caught his breath, the tears start to flow. He sobs, and shivers and Trapper opens up his arms. Hawkeye clings to him so hard that it hurts. He tries to speak but he loses his breath again. "Hey, you don't have to say anything. You're okay. I've got you." 

Hawkeye nods his response into Trapper's chest. Meanwhile McIntyre cups the cool water in his hands and runs it over Pierce's hair. He watches the wispy hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end and massages the gooseflesh there until it warms and settles. His fingers run across the all too familiar chain holding Hawkeye’s dog tags. It’s the first time McIntyre registers that he’s still wearing them. He wants to ask why, but he keeps this thought to himself. It’s a question for later. After a time he feels Hawkeye's grip on him loosen. He watches the tension in his neck and back release and the sobs slowly diminish. Their eyes meet, and Hawkeye is trying to think of a joke to pardon himself but there's nothing to joke about here. He's legitimately scared and he cowers as he speaks in a low voice that is hoarse and sore from screaming. "I don't understand what happened... I'm sorry..." he trails off looking away into the distance. 

Trapper cups Hawkeye's face in his hands and waits until his panicked eyes meet his. "Don't be sorry. You're allowed to not be okay. That's what I'm here for."

There are more tears followed by Trapper’s butterfly kisses on his face drinking them up. They stay huddled together in the water for a long time, long enough for the chopper to circle back again. Trapper holds Hawkeye's hand as they watch it make its rounds. Hawkeye’s pulse quickens, and he clutches to Trapper’s hand tightly. The chopper flies by with no announcement, no casualties, no rush of wounded, no river of blood, no hours in surgery. Hawkeye sniffles and is so filled with relief that he starts to laugh. Trapper smiles at him and hugs him close. The laughter shortly leads to kicking and splashing. Hawkeye tackles Trapper, then does his best to crawl away before he’s caught. The two end up cavorting in the waves together until they are both soaked from head to toe and completely breathless. 

Daniel can hear their laughter and it’s a relief. He’s watched everything transpire. He had followed Trapper down the ladder but seeing that his son was in good hands, kept his distance. He’d never seen Hawkeye unravel quite like that before. He’d also never seen anyone put him back together so quickly. He ascends the ladder all the while remembering his wife. Her and Hawkeye were prone to the same mood and temperament changes and they’d rode out many storms together in much the same way. It took patience, empathy and an endless supply of love, but she was the only person in world Daniel Pierce had ever had eyes for. She was a gentle soul with a kind heart, the most soulful cerulean eyes and a maniacal laugh. He missed her desperately but knew that she would be beside herself that her son had found himself someone who would move mountains for his happiness; someone who could be patient and generous and who would see him from his worst to his best without ever faltering. He knew she would have adored John McIntyre which was in part why he found it so easy to himself. This man would stay family no matter what Hawkeye’s decision, but Daniel truly hoped his son could see through his pain and notice the light that was standing right in front of him.

………..

Hawkeye paced back and forth by the back door, stopping every once in a while to peer anxiously out the window. It wasn’t like Trapper to be late for dinner. He wrung his hands before wrapping his arms across his chest and moving again. He had thought they’d ended up having a pretty wonderful afternoon even in the face of his outburst. Now he was embarrassed and worried. Worried everything had been a front to make him feel better. Maybe Trapper was gone. Everyone always leaves him…

“Ben, for Christ sake, come sit down. Your food is getting cold. John’s a big boy. If he’s hungry he’ll find his way.” Daniel was watching his son with mounting concern. “Don’t make me get the butterfly net…”

Hawkeye’s face falls. He takes the hint and forces himself to stand still. “Am I that bad?” 

Daniel smiled softly, “You just need to relax is all.”

“I just…” Hawkeye rubs his face with both hands in a frustrated gesture. “What if I scared him off?”

His father lets out a huff of air trying to contain a laugh, “Sit down.” With one final look out the window, Hawkeye submits and slumps into his seat at the dinner table next to his father. He picks up his fork and pushes the meatball off the top of his spaghetti. He’s not hungry but he proceeds to break it up into smaller pieces to keep his hands from fidgeting. “Can I ask you an honest question?” Hawkeye peers up at his dad and the serious expression on his face and he nods in the affirmative. “How many nights since you’ve been here have you spent with Trapper?”

Hawkeye shrugs, “All of them… except the first night…”

“And you stay up all night?”

“Just talking…”

Daniel nods, “And then you come back here to sleep.”

“Ya…”

“John’s not sleeping Hawkeye. Or if he does it sure as hell doesn’t for very long. He’s been opening up the clinic in the morning and when he’s not there he’s working on the house. He’s probably exhausted. Yes this is a huge transition for you but it’s also one for him.”

Hawkeye blinks and looks hurt, “I never said that it wasn’t… I’m just worried…”

“Well stop it. There’s nothing to worry about. That man is crazy about you.”

“You mean, he’d have to be crazy…”

“Ben…I know I don’t…we don’t usually talk about her but how much do you remember about your mother?”

The change of topic makes Hawkeye sit up straight. He blinks and puts down his fork, his arms returning to their defensive position across his chest. He shakes his head, “Not a lot. I remember little glimpses. Being held. Tugging at her skirt. Laughing with her. Being read to. The smell of her hair. I remember she made me happy. I remember she made you happy.”

Daniel frowned and took a breath before asking his next question, “Do you remember if she was happy?”

“What are you getting at dad?”

“I see your mother in you every time I look at you. You have her eyes and her smile, her playfulness, her compassion. Her laugh… You also have her great capacity for emotion, Hawkeye. You have her despair. Her fear. Her anxiety…Your mother was sick.”

“I know, that’s why she’s not here.”

“Not exactly. You were too young for me to explain to you what really happened, but I think you deserve to know where this part of yourself comes from and start learning how to accept and manage it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Daniel lets out a sigh, “Ben, your mother was prone to depressive episodes and bouts of mania. She was a lively, brilliant, healthy woman with an appetite for life one day and the next would be completely inconsolable. There were weeks after you were born where she couldn’t get out of bed, couldn’t eat, couldn’t so much as change clothes. There were feedings when I would have to hold you to her breast while she screamed and sobbed which only caused you to scream and sob. It took time. There were moments of clarity and times of joy. She found her footing in motherhood and started living for you. But we got pregnant again…I did everything I could for her Hawkeye. Everything. I loved her more than I loved myself. One day I went to work. She was begging me not to, but we needed the money. I was thinking of you and the house and the new baby… when I got home I found her at the bottom of the stairs bone cold with you cuddled up at her side reading to her. You thought she was asleep… I’ll never know if it was an accident or not. It will never matter because she pleaded with me to stay with her and I didn’t listen. We both lost her as a result. Every morning you would ask me where she was and when she was coming back. It took almost a week for me to tell you. It took almost a year for you to stop asking. ”

Hawkeye is stock still, brow furrowed, tears streaming from his eyes, "You told Trapper." It wasn't a question. 

"When the letter came informing me of your hospitalization, I felt like it would be best to disclose to him as much as I could. None of it was a surprise to him. None of it was off putting. He really sees you, Ben. He said your moods never phased him. He said that your ability to empathize so deeply and love so fully makes you even more beautiful and that there was nothing he wasn’t prepared to see you through…When I hear the way he talks about you, I hear myself. I hear how I would talk about your mother and it gives me hope. Hope that he could be there for you in a way I couldn't be for you her. He makes me think that everything could work out for the better. It's all just hanging on you."

“Hanging on me…” Hawkeye echoes back 

“Don’t get me wrong, Ben. I support you no matter what you decide. If you don’t love him, if the situation is just too complicated and you want him out of your life, that’s what will happen. But level with me, that’s not remotely close to what you want, is it? You wouldn’t be here fussing and fretting if you didn’t love him back. You wouldn’t be afraid that he would duck out, if you didn’t want him to stay. So tell me, do you love him?”

“So much it hurts.” 

“Then let him know it.”

“Dad…” Hawkeye says in a small voice. 

“I’m serious.”

Hawkeye nods, “I know. Thank you.” It takes a minute, but Hawkeye picks up his fork and swirls some noodles around the prongs and then spears a piece of meatball and takes his first bite. He thinks maybe this gives him a lot more to process but it doesn’t. The more he thinks on it the more he’s known all along. If he thinks hard enough, he can remember reading to his mother on the floor in front of the steps. He can remember kissing her goodnight on her cold cheek. He could also remember her chasing him around the backyard, splashing with him in the water, building sandcastles along the shore and sharing their picnic with the gulls. It was an accident. It had to have been. She loved them too much and would never leave them on purpose. He thinks of himself and John cavorting along the same shore and he feels a warmth spread from his gut to his cheeks. He was in love. He’d always been in love with John McIntyre and it was time to give up the year he spent denying it to stay safe. It wasn’t protecting him anymore. The Pierce’s spend the rest of their meal in relative silence. Hawkeye manages eat more than he has in days. By the time he’s finished, he’s calmed considerably. He has a plan. He looks up at his dad and smiles, “Tell me more about you and mom…”

……….

Trapper stood in front of a long mirror in the bathroom examining the set of purple welts on his ribs and thighs. In the moment there was so much adrenaline he hadn't felt a thing. Now they were pulsing and tender to the touch. He winced as he applied ointment to the ones that had been scraped up. This afternoon's panic attack had thrown him. Trapper was relieved that he could ground Hawkeye and bring him back to a happier state. The bruises were a small sacrifice for Hawkeye's peace of mind. Trapper had intended on coming back to the house to clean up and meeting the Pierce’s for dinner but after his shower, he’d sat down on his bed and ended up falling into a deep slumber. It had been over a week since he’d really slept. He was drained and in all honesty, he didn’t want Hawkeye to see that he was hurt and tired. 

He slides his pajama pants back over his hip bones and ties up his yellow robe. It’s getting late and he decides it’s time to build a fire. He collects yesterday’s newspaper and kneels down in front of the hearth. He only starts to build it when he hears a knock at the door. 

“It’s open, Hawk,” he calls out. He continues to stack kindling until there’s another knock. He lets out a groan and rises to his feet. “Hawkeye, it’s unlocked.” He pads over to the door as quickly as he can. When he opens it, Hawkeye is there wrapped in his blanket. “Didn’t you hear me?” Trapper asks. 

Hawkeye is smiling his big outrageous grin. “I missed you at dinner.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, but I crashed really hard. I hope I didn’t put your dad out.” Hawkeye shakes his head. He’s still smiling like an idiot. “Are you just going to stand there, or what?”

Hawkeye follows Trapper inside. He stays quiet, but his eyes are sparkling, and his smile remains radiant. Trapper kneels back down in front of the fire trying to finish lighting it. He’s asking about what they ate but when he receives no reply he turns around, “Hawk?”

Hawkeye has dropped his blanket on the floor to reveal himself naked aroused. The only thing he’s wearing is his smile and his dog tags. His blush is clear on his chest and neck. His bottom lip is quivering in anticipation of Trapper’s reaction. McIntyre’s eyes are wide. He struggles to get back to his feet. Hawkeye is skinnier and paler than Trapper remembers. His skin glows milky white accept for his arms, face and neck which were tanned from the hot Korean summer. His impulse is to reach for the blanket and cover Hawkeye back up protectively but Hawkeye kicks to blanket away.

“What are you doing?” Trapper almost stutters. 

Hawkeye licks his lips and his smile guts Trapper. “My answer is yes, Trap. It’s always been yes. It was yes the second I opened that scrap of paper. I just never got to tell you in time. I was scared it was too late… I’m still scared. But not of you. Not of us. I love you. You’re the constant I want in my life. You’re it.”

Trapper eyes are shiny with brimming tears, but it doesn’t last long. He’s at Hawkeye’s side in two strides. Their lips crash together, and he feels the blood rush from his brain to his extremities. They are all tongues and lips and teeth. The pressure is bruising. Hawkeye’s hands are in his hair, tugging relentlessly on his curls. Trapper’s hands want to be everywhere. He’s missed this body more than words can possibly express. His hands wander from face to back to ass and back again. Roaming and squeezing and caressing. They come up for air just for a moment. Hawkeye’s nose nuzzles against his and it’s the most sensual caress he’s ever felt. He can feel the goosebumps running up his spine. He can taste Hawkeye’s sweet breath mingling with his. His lips are already red and wanton. He licks at them before drawing them to his again. He slows his pace and instead kisses more deeply, more fully. Hawkeye moans grinding his hips into McIntyre and Trapper thinks he could die right then and there. 

“I think I’m ready to see upstairs…” Hawkeye drifts off tucking his face into Trapper’s neck where he’s rediscovering his favourite spot and peppering it with kisses. When Trapper doesn’t say anything, Hawkeye looks up at him with dark, lustful eyes. “Make love to me, John…” Hawkeye’s hand travels up from Trapper’s thigh to his groin where he subtly teases his fingers against his erection. “I want you…”

“Hawk, I…” his words are cut off by another long kiss. Hawkeye is stroking him through his pajamas with one hand while the other grips his neck and keeps his lips locked to his. McIntyre’s knees buckle, and Hawkeye does his best to help hold him up. 

Trapper’s breath hitches and Hawkeye laughs. “You like that?” Trapper nods, his eyes closed tight as he breaths in deeply, his nails digging into Hawkeye’s bare shoulder. “C’mon…” Hawkeye stops and takes Trapper’s hand leading him in the direction of the stairwell. They don’t get far as Trapper presses him up against the wall to steal another desperate kiss. Hawkeye bites his lip in an attempt to steal away. It distracts Trapper momentarily, but Hawkeye is caught and tackled a few feet up the steps. They laugh and fall together and end up making out in the stairwell. Their legs are tangled together in a heap, their hips rising and falling create a sweet friction. Hawkeye’s fingers are trying to untie Trapper’s robe, but Trapper keeps pinning his arms above his head. McIntyre kisses his neck and nibbles and bites his way down his throat. His licks the centre of his sternum where a single bead of sweat is rolling its way down. Trapper takes a taut pink nipple in his mouth and sucks mercilessly. Hawkeye is wriggling and squirming. Through his panting, he manages to indicate that he’s close and that Trapper needs to slow down. Trapper understands as he is beginning to see stars himself. They lay there for a moment fingers still delicately dancing over each other’s skin. They catch their collective breath and Trapper wills himself to stand up. He’s a little dizzy on his feet but once he’s steadies himself, he offers a hand to Hawkeye and helps him up. They lean on each other and share some tender pecks before Trapper leads him the rest of the way up the stairs to the loft. 

Trapper hadn’t really done it justice in describing it. From where Hawkeye was standing he had a magnificent view of the seascape and through the small sunroof, he could even see the stars. The decorations were few and far between. It actually reminded him a lot of camp. There were photos taped to the headboard, all of which were of himself and Trapper. The sight of which made his heart pump faster. The bed was an oasis unto itself. Having gotten used to squishing together in army cots and rendezvous on the barely padded floor of the supply shed, this was practically a kingdom. The sheets were a clean bright white and the blankets which all in shades of blue. Trapper walks over the window and strikes match. It catches Hawkeye by surprise and when he takes a closer look it brings him to tears. In the window sits a bedpan with a single candle inside.

“I kept it lit at night, so you could find your way home and look, here you are…” 

Hawkeye joins Trapper at the window and looks out. Across the yard, he catches a glimpse of his old bedroom window at his father’s house. “It was you all along…”

His arms slide around Trapper’s neck and he pulls him in for a series of soft kisses. Things start to slow down as they settle into their new love nest. Hawkeye’s hands return to the knot in Trapper’s robe and Trapper allows those deft fingers to untie it and push the robe off his shoulders. It falls to the ground revealing McIntyre’s tanned, sculpted torso. Hawkeye drinks him in like a fine wine. His hands start by massaging his pectorals and then moving upwards to his broad shoulders. Trapper can’t help but move his own hands up and down Hawkeye’s lean frame. They come to rest on his hip bones and squeeze there. He pulls their bodies closer together and Hawkeye’s lips are on Trapper again. Trapper hugs Pierce so tight that his feet come off the ground. He wraps a leg around McIntyre’s waist and struggles to lift the other. He’s carried haphazardly to the edge of the bed where Trapper sets him down. He goes to lean down beside him, but Hawkeye has the waist of his pajama’s in his grasp. They stare at each other. Trapper’s toothy grin is wild. Hawkeye takes this as a signal and pulls the pants down and slides them to the floor. Trapper’s impressive manhood springs out in front of Hawkeye’s face. Again Trapper attempts to lower himself, but Hawkeye has other plans. He grabs a hold of Trapper’s hips and draws him close to the bedside. Hawkeye’s hands run up Trapper’s thighs and he’s just about to take the tip of his cock into his mouth when he sees him flinch. Hawkeye pulls his hand away from Trapper’s thigh to reveal a huge purple welt. With wide eyes, Hawkeye looks up at Trapper. He’s about to ask what happened, when he realized that he was what happened. He frowns and looks away. Trapper kneels down and takes Hawkeye chin in his hand. He sweeps the hair off his face and traces his pouting lower lip with his thumb before claiming those lips soothingly. Hawkeye melts into him and as they are kissing Trapper lays Hawkeye down and slowly lowers himself on top of him. He wraps his arms around him and they roll until Hawkeye has the upper hand and his hips are holding Trapper’s down. From this position he can see all the damage up the left side of Trapper’s rib cage. He reaches out and traces it faintly with his agile fingertips. Trapper wants to tell him it’s not his fault but instead he just watches Hawkeye take the sight in. After a time, he leans down and presses tender kisses to each one before licking and nuzzling each wound. Trapper can feel his groin tighten at the gesture. He’s never been more aroused in his life. Hawkeye lowers himself down Trapper’s body. Trapper tries to sit up and resist but Hawkeye’s hand sits on Trapper’s sternum encouraging him to lay back. 

They lock eyes for a long moment before Hawkeye lowers his face to Trapper’s groin. It’s absolutely thirsting to be touched. Hawkeye licks his lips before lowering his face to it and taking a thorough sniff. The tip of his nose caresses him and it jumps. It takes Hawkeye all his might not to laugh. Instead, he smiles wickedly up at McIntyre before encircling the tip with his tongue. Trapper throws back his head and lets out a loud groan. The precum is dripping from the tip and Hawkeye slurps it up as he takes Trapper in hand and starts to stroke him in rhythm with his licks. He’s rock hard and aching. Hawkeye knows he doesn’t have long so he wants to make it count. He takes the head into his mouth and then slowly takes the rest of his girth down his throat. He holds it there for a moment before retracting his mouth and using his tongue to lick up and down the shaft before taking him in again. McIntyre’s hands reach down to the top of Hawkeye’s head where his fingers curl around locks of this salt and pepper hair. He’s moaning deeply the sound of which is making Hawkeye just as crazy. He continues to stroke his cock in long slow motions as his mouth travels to his testicles where to licks and tastes greedily. “Hawk..” Trapper’s breath catches in this throat and Hawkeye sees the look in his eye and his takes Trapper in his mouth one more time, stroking and sucking more rapidly. McIntyre cries out as Hawkeye continues his ministrations until Trapper’s ridden out his orgasm. Pierce swallows every drop Trapper produces and delights in the familiar taste. His fingers linger around his member, tracing the shape, tickling him softly. Their eyes meet again. Pierce smiles at him and slowly kisses his way back up Trapper’s torso, careful of the scrapes and bruises. Hawkeye lays on his side next to Trapper who is still panting heavily and trying to regain some sense of composure. Hawkeye absolutely loves seeing Trapper undone like this. He thinks back to the countless lovers he’s taken and none of them even remotely compare to his Trapper. A hand travels up to his matted, sweaty curls and his fingers twist around a lock playfully. When Trapper has his breath back, he rolls over onto his side and pulls Hawkeye close. Their noses bump lovingly before Trapper’s lips take Hawkeye’s. The taste of himself on Hawkeye’s lips is the ultimate aphrodisiac. His head swims as the kiss deepens and he feels Hawkeye’s erection weep against his thigh. Trapper runs a hand down Hawkeye’s flank which causes Hawkeye to let out a sweet little whimper. He attempts to snake his hand between them, but Hawkeye catches it. 

“No. I want to wait until you’re ready again. I want you inside me.” Trapper doesn’t have any words. He kisses Hawkeye with fervor and continues to run his fingers up and down his side. They hit a spot near his mid-section and it elicits a giggle. Trapper focuses all his attention there until Hawkeye is laughing out loud and begging for mercy. He persists until Hawkeye cries out uncle. He curls himself into Trapper’s side and presses his face into his chest, breathing him in deeply as he catches his breath. Trapper arms wrap around him and they lay together in blissful silence. Hawkeye’s fingers trace Trapper’s wounds, “I’m sorry I did that to you… Thank you for seeing me through that episode… I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Trapper takes one of Hawkeye’s hands in his and brings it to his lips. “I promise to always be there when you need me. I don’t ever want you to have to go through anything like that alone ever again.” 

Hawkeye is touched by the sentiment, “I’ve grown up enough to know that you don’t have any control over that, Trap. But it means everything to me that you want to be there.”

“I’m still sure as hell going to try,” Trapper kisses Hawkeye’s hand again. He takes his time and examines each slender digit, traces each line on his palm and mouths at each knuckle. The gesture is making Hawkeye come unhinged. He groans and rolls his head back. Trapper uses this opening to latch onto Hawkeye’s neck with his lips. He licks from his chin down past his Adam’s apple, then places tiny kisses along his exposed throat. Hawkeye giggles as a blonde curl tickles his nose, then gasps and Trapper takes a nimble bite of the skin on his neck. 

“Mmmm, Trap, more… please…” 

Trapper smiles pleased that his lover is satisfied with his work. He’s only just begun after all. McIntyre’s thumbs pinch and praud at Hawkeye’s nipples which rise to the occasion. He takes one into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it before moving on to the next. He returns to stare into Hawkeye’s stunning blue eyes. They are dark and heavy with a salacious gaze that makes Trapper weak willed. He can feel his desire beginning to grow again. He feeds on Hawkeye’s bottom lip before skillfully kissing his way down the middle of his chest, past his dog tags, down his soft belly to the trail of hair leading down to his erect penis. He wants Hawkeye so bad he can taste him and so he does. Gingerly at first but then he swallows him whole all the while massaging and tantalising his perineum. While he licks and sucks and tastes Hawkeye’s arousal, he slowly starts to finger his entrance. He teases at first with this tip of his middle finger. He feels Hawkeye tighten around it and his mind is shot back to times in hotel rooms and supply closest and linen rooms and that one and only time in The Swamp. It almost knocks him out the sense memory is so strong. 

“John…” Hawkeye saying his name pulls him out of his revelry. Trapper watches him as he continues to stoke him with long, firm stokes. Hawkeye trembles and Trapper knows he’s on the verge from the sheer desperation in his face. “Do you have any…” He trails off, his hand reaches out to Trapper and clutching at his shoulder. “ I don’t know if I can… it’s been so long…”

It takes Trapper second, but he understands and rolls over to the nightstand where he opens and drawer. The next thing Hawkeye feels is a slick sensuous hand wetting him and making sure that he’s as relaxed and prepared as possible. Trapper is thorough in his attentions making it as pleasurable for Hawkeye as possible. He works his way ever so slowly from one finger, to two and then almost to three pressing firmly against Hawkeye’s prostate until he is begging him to enter. 

Hawkeye sits up and kisses Trapper hard before laying back and allowing McIntyre to throw one of his legs over each shoulder. “I love you so fucking much,” Trapper utters.

And Hawkeye nods vigorously and moans, “I love you too. Now fuck me John… fuck me…”

Trapper obliges pushing the head of his member into Hawkeye entrance. He is met with that rush of incredible tightness wrapping around him. He throws back his head as inch by excruciating inch he pushes forward. His eyes are locked on Hawkeye’s for any sign of distress, but Hawkeye is pushing back into him wantonly. He wants to be taken by Trapper so badly that he’s begging for it, but Trapper maintains his composure and works slowly and carefully until he knows that Hawkeye is safe. Once he’s buried to the hilt, he deliberately pulls out an inch at time before thrusting himself slowly back inside. His cock rubs Hawkeye in precisely the right way and he moans in delight. Satisfied with that, Trapper speeds up his thrusts. They rock together in a perfect union. Trapper pushing down and Hawkeye rising to meet him. 

“C’mon John… is that all you’ve got?” Hawkeye teases. The jibe makes McIntyre thrust extra deep the next time and it causes Hawkeye to groan wildly. “Yes, like that, just like that, more… please… more…”

Trapper, always one to please, repeats the action until Hawkeye is practically screaming. “Tell me what you want, Hawk…”

Hawkeye moans the words, “Touch me…” and “I want you to cum inside me…” The words are almost enough to send McIntyre over the edge. He takes a deep breath and trusts deep and slow. As he does he reaches out for Hawkeye’s throbbing cock. The moment he touches it, Hawkeye, drives into his hand. Trapper squeezes and matches his strokes with his thrusts. The next time he looks down at Hawkeye there are tears streaming down his cheeks. For a split second he’s worried until he realizes that they are happy, gratified tears. Hawkeye tries to give a warning, but the words don’t have time to escape his mouth before his hips buckle and he throws his head back. He cums hard shooting his load all over himself and Trapper. Neither man cares as Trapper continues to rock himself in and out of his partner. Between spurts of his orgasm, Hawkeye is pleading for Trapper to cum inside of him and to make him complete. The words push Trapper over the edge and he unloads himself inside Hawkeye with a declaration of love. He continues to grind slowly as he milks himself dry. Both men are sweaty sated heaps. Trapper practically collapses on top of Hawkeye. Hawkeye’s arms wrap around him and his lips pull him down and down again. He is relentless in wanting to drink from him. 

“I love you. Never ever leave me again.”

Between kisses Trapper responds, “I won’t… I can’t… I love you too much…”

They are a sticky mass of flesh and sweat and lust and limbs. They lay face to face. Hawkeye is fixated on the rise and fall of Trapper’s chest. Trapper eyes are heavy lidded, and his fingers are fiddling with Hawkeye’s dog tags. He glances up at Hawkeye who is watching him in turn. He breathes a kiss onto his swollen lips and Hawkeye lets out a soft sigh. Trapper uses the dog tags to draw him as close as he can.

“Why?” Trapper whispers. 

Hawkeye forehead wrinkles until he understands that Trapper is referring to him wearing the dog tags still. “You… they keep you close…” 

Trapper nods slowly and smiles, his hands wrap around one of the tags while the other hand holds he rest together tight He pulls it from the strand. “In that case, this one is mine now…”

Hawkeye picks up what’s left of his tags and realizes that Trapper’s removed one of the one’s with his details on it. He smiles and snuggles into Trapper. The gesture may have been symbolic, but Hawkeye feels a sense of relief. His burden is not his alone to carry anymore. A weight is lifted. He is safe, and he is finally home. 

Trapper rolls over to place the tag on the night stand before laying on his back with Hawkeye’s head resting on his chest. He kisses his forehead and hugs him close. Trapper already knows the answer, but he asks anyway, “You gonna stay the night?”

Hawkeye smiles, “Of course, I live here…”

Satisfied, McIntyre shines his toothy grin, “You bet you do.” 

They stay wrapped up in each other like that until morning. When they wake, they go about making slow lazy love and christening their new home room by room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it was worth the wait. This sex scene was brought to you by our good friend tequila. I'm still not 100% comfortable with this part of myself so, there you go...
> 
> A lot of other personal thoughts and ideas explored here. Always happy to discuss them with anyone who wants to. 
> 
> As always, I am super grateful for those of you reading and commenting. Thank you!


	10. Friendly Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A burning question from Daniel and a package from Mill Valley lead to Hawkeye and Trapper trying to figure out who they can trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus. This chapter was a challenge for me. I mean, I really just want our boys to be happy and the last chapter left them that way. Figuring out what comes after what could be a happy ending was something else. More notes at the end. Enjoy!

"So when's the wedding?"

"Jesus, Daniel,” Trapper nearly jumps out of his skin. “What are you doing skulking around at this hour?"

"It's my house."

"Right... well, fine but you still scared the hell out of me."

Daniel laughs taking in the armful of clothes and duffel bag strew over McIntyre's shoulder. "So, my son is finally moving out?"

Trapper grins, "Finally."

"Good, Daniel claps Trapper on the back and smiles broadly. “You didn't answer my question."

"We just... wait,” McIntyre shakes his head, “You know we can't legally get married, right? And we certainly can't have a big to-do lest you plan on helping me re-build our homes after the mob burns them down."

Daniel rolls his eyes, "I think you underestimate the people of Crabapple Cove."

"It's nothing personal. I underestimate most people. I grew up in a neighbourhood where if you were different you got your teeth kicked in on the curb. I just don't want to do anything to jeopardize what Hawk and I are lucky enough to have now. He’s already punishing himself for so much…"

"What about your friends and family?"

"My parents are gone and trust me when I say it's for the best. As for friends... we've only got one true one who knows about us."

"Maybe it's time to change that," Daniel suggests. “You can’t hide from the people you care about forever.” Trapper raises his eyebrows skeptically. "Listen, I know it isn't legal, and I know we can't do anything crazy, but I'll be damned if my son doesn't get to have some sort of party to celebrate finding the love of his life."

"Steady Daniel," McIntyre urges. He's touched by how passionately his lover's father wants to celebrate their being together. "We haven't even talked about it ourselves. Let us at least settle in and talk over who, if anyone, would be safe to disclose this to. I promise we'll do something to celebrate." 

"Good. While you're lugging things back to the house, a package came for Ben this afternoon..."

"Oh?"

"All the way from California." Daniel grabs a rectangular box off the kitchen table and piles it on top of Trapper's arm load. Trapper examines the delicate, loopy writing on the box. The return address reads, The Hunnicutts, Mill Valley, California. He knows this will make Hawkeye happy but there’s still a trace of skepticism in him. “Someone you know?”

Trapper shakes his head, “No, not yet anyway.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows and smirks. He knows who the Hunnicutts are. He’d had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Hunnicutt at the party in New York and recognized her handwriting on the box. He hopes this is a sign that the boys will start communicating more openly with the people in their lives. Before he forgets, he adds, “If you think you can manage it, I have some leftovers for you too. You must be famished.”

………..

"Hey, I'm back." An incoherent purr seeps through the crack in the bathroom door way. McIntyre smiles to himself as he pushes it open to gaze upon a bathing Hawkeye. He’s lounging head back, eyes closed, lips parted, one leg dangling over the lip of the claw foot tub. His cheeks warm up and his heart sings seeing Hawkeye reveling in his new home. "Good bath?"

A long stretch is followed by a wide smile and a lazy nod, "Exquisite. I can always make room for one more if you want…"

"Where do you find the energy?"

Hawkeye shrugs reaching a beckoning hand out to his love, "I don't but I never could pass up a handsome face."

Trapper enters to room; crooked grin shining and kneels down at the head of the tub. His fingers tickle the surface of the water before find their way to Hawkeye's shoulders. It's impossible not to touch him. Trapper's nose finds its way to the base of his neck and caresses the wet hair there. It's taking him all his power to not climb in with him. "I think you could use a break," Trapper's words insist while his lips graze against the back of Hawkeye's neck and his hands kneed his aching muscles.

"You have a really weird way of saying no."

"I'm not saying no. I'm just saying I don't want to overdo it and hurt you."

Hawkeye moans and arches his back as Trapper's hands negotiate a knot in his back. He works his fingers deep into the tissue resulting in a little whine from Pierce. He eases off but there's another whimper and Trapper knows to return his hands back to where they were. He continues his ministrations and basks in the subtle hitches in Hawkeye’s breath. Once he feels the knot disappear, he works his way back up to his shoulders. Hawkeye’s head has turned and is waiting to prey upon McIntyre’s supple lips. He catches them deftly and sucks demandingly on his lower lip until he opens his mouth the grant his tongue access. Trapper is so caught up in the attention that he’s been half pulled into the pub soaking his arms and chest and overflowing the tub water onto the floor. It isn’t until he notices his wet knees that he breaks the kiss laughing. 

“You are such a brat!” 

Hawkeye is persistent pulling McIntyre to him. “I missed you. Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll mop it up later…” And he’s kissing him again and pulling him back down by his collar. Their lips collide and once Hawkeye can feel that Trapper is fully invested in wrestling with his tongue, he starts to unbutton his soaked shirt and pushes it away from his broad shoulders. It lands in the puddle on the floor in a squish and Hawkeye can’t help but laugh as Trapper cringes. Hawkeye tries to pull him back down, but Trapper stands up. To his delight, it’s to remove his trousers.

“Move over then…”

Hawkeye can barely contain giggle as his shifts to the side of the tub. Trapper steps in and as he does, Pierce’s hands are caressing the soft flesh of his thighs. He hears Trapper stifle a moan as he lowers himself into the tub. More water sloshes over the sides as they rearrange. Trapper lays on his back while Hawkeye positions himself between his legs and reclines back into him. Trapper continues to massage Hawkeye all over as Hawkeye curls into him for warmth. He rolls over enough to be able to meet his warm gaze and share a contented smile. Trapper’s hands find another tender spot and Hawkeye whimpers. 

“You’re really sore, huh?”

Hawkeye grins, “It’s not a bad kind of sore. I’d give anything to be this kind of sore all the time.”

“You know,” Trapper doesn’t know how to put the thoughts in his head into words, but he tries anyway, “you don’t always have to be… I could… we could try… with me…”

“Why John McIntyre… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush quite like that before.” It was true, Trapper was red from chest to forehead and was averting his eyes from Hawkeye’s.

“I just thought that… I could spare you some pain… maybe see what all the fuss is about…”

Hawkeye rolls over as far as he can manage sending more water slopping to the floor. He lips are practically touching Trapper’s as he whispers, “I’m sure we can figure some sort of arrangement out.”

Trapper nods as they kiss and caress one another. There is no rush now. No fear. No haste. They could spend the rest of their lives taking their time and the thought of which was enough to make McIntyre lose himself. This siren was all his. The passion, the talent, the empathy, the love, belonged to him. He was so happy he thought he would burst. 

Hawkeye could feel him smiling into the kiss, “What is it?” He asks but only breaking away for a moment. His lips return to suckle on Trapper’s bottom lip before feathering kisses along his jawline. 

“You’re dad asked me when the wedding is going to be.”

Pierce is smiling back, “Well, I always considered myself an autumn, but that’s only a few weeks away…”

“He’s serious.”

“I have no doubt.” 

“Is that something you’d want to do? I mean, have a big party and try to explain this to our friends?”

Hawkeye sits up and tries to turn around, so he can have this conversation with Trapper face to face. “I don’t know. I mean, do you think we really could?” He missed the connection instantly and takes Trapper’s hand in his.

“I don’t know.” Trapper reassuringly squeezes Hawkeye’s hand. “I mean, I don’t have any family left. I lost any friends from before Korea when I filed for divorce. The only people I keep in touch with from camp are Radar and Klinger. I don’t know if I trust anyone else. The only person I care about is you. I couldn’t bare it if we told the wrong person and lost everything. I can’t lose you again.”

“I’m not going anywhere… I think… maybe we can afford to tell a few more people. We all got pretty close in the end. Margaret was a different woman after her divorce. I’d like to think she’d be okay with us being together. On some level she must have suspected something…”

“Well, she knew we were sexed crazed deviants, just not for one another.” Trapper sends a little splash at Hawkeye to punctuate his joke and Hawkeye sends one back. “Okay, we’ll talk to Margaret. Who else?”

“Charles. We got on each other’s nerves sometimes, but I think he would understand. Father Mulcahy? I honestly don’t know what he would think but he knew us both and I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt. Colonel Potter… And BJ…”

Trapper nods his agreement and gives Hawkeye a warm smile, “Okay. We’ll give it a try.” 

Hawkeye is beaming. His eyes are wide and wet with unshed tears. He’s nodding in return and he maneuvers around again to place himself back in Trapper’s loving embrace. “I almost forgot, I got all the things you asked for from the main house. Now if you’re dad stops by you won’t have to jump into my clothes. He also sent over some food for us and a package that came for you…”

………….

Hawkeye sits in front of the fireplace examining the box with his name on it. He’s excited and nervous all at the same time. "Dinner's ready," announces McIntyre as he carries a tray with two plates of meat and potatoes over to their spot in front of the fire. He stops when he sees Hawkeye still hasn't opened his package. "Everything okay?" Hawkeye shrugs without looking up. Hawkeye was so excited when he'd mentioned the package from Mill Valley, but now he looked almost overwhelmed by it. "It's not going to bite you."

"Ha..." Pierce deflects. "You never know with BJ."

"Do you want me to do it?"

"No, I'll do it..."

Trapper sets the tray down and then sits himself just behind Hawkeye, so he can rest his head on his shoulder. Pierce lets out a long sigh and leans into McIntyre's sturdy frame as he starts to peel back the brown packing paper. He opens the box to find chocolate chip cookies and a short letter. 

Dear Hawkeye,   
I can't thank you enough for taking care of my husband while he was overseas. I'll never forget the kindness you showed us by helping me surprise BJ for our anniversary. It meant the world to us both. Knowing he had a friend like you made it easier to sleep at night. BJ sends his best and says he hopes you found the note he left for you.   
Warmest regards,   
Peg Hunnicutt 

"It looks like I brought dessert," Hawkeye says dropping the letter back into the box. He's joking but there is no bounce in voice. 

"What did it say?" Trapper asks pretending he wasn't reading over Hawkeye's shoulder. 

"Nothing really. Just thank you."

Trapper wraps his arms around him and kisses his temple. He can feel the tension in Hawkeye and see the defeat on his face. "Then why do you look like someone ran over your dog?" Hawkeye is someplace else thinking about that goodbye sign and the finality of it all. Thinking about it now it felt heavier than the stones it was written in. "Hawk?"

His voice is small and distant, "It wasn't him. None of this was him."

"C'mere..." McIntyre pulls Pierce closer and can feel his shaking. "This wasn't meant to hurt you. His wife is trying to thank you."

"But he didn't even sign it..."

Trapper kisses his temple again and works to soothe him by massaging his scalp. "Look, I know you miss him. I know you love him. But I think you are reading too much into this. Why don't you try reaching out to him tomorrow? Thanking them for the package gives you an opening and if it feels right, you can tell him our news."

Nodding through deep breaths, Hawkeye begins to slowly settle. He turns to face Trapper and receives a peck on his nose and a warm half smile. "Thank you."

"For what?" 

"For ... everything." Hawkeye leans in for a delicate series of kisses.

"No charge." He brushes the hair out of Hawkeye's face before grabbing a cookie from the box, breaking it in half and feeding it to him. Hawkeye smiles and bites it out of his hand. Trapper eats the other half. "Not bad..."

“If we’re lucky, we’ll get some fudge for Christmas.”

Trapper smiles, “Dinner is getting cold.”

“I’m not very hungry,” Hawkeye replies. He looks at the tray and wrinkles his nose. 

“You have to eat something. You’re practically skin and bone.” Hawkeye pouts and lets out another sigh. “C’mon, just a few bites and I’ll back off.”

Hawkeye doesn’t fight him. He knows he should eat. He just hates how everything sits in his stomach like lead and how it all rushes to escape him. It makes him nauseous and tense just thinking about it. He misses when food tasted good. When he craved it. Trapper sits the tray between them and starts cutting up his meat. He takes a few bites himself before offering some up to Hawkeye on his fork. Reluctantly, he takes it and is soon after offered some potatoes. After a few more bites, he lays down, resting his head in Trapper’s lap and closes his eyes. 

Trapper’s heart aches for him. He tells him it will get better, but he knows it falls on deaf ears. All he can do is set a good example and finish off his own plate before pushing the tray away. They’d come such a long way, but they still had a long way to go to reach normalcy. Trapper sits by the fire until it starts to die out. Hawkeye is fast asleep snoring softly. Occasionally he’ll twitch or murmur a bit of nonsense. Trapper takes his hand and just like that it stops. He doesn’t want to wake him, but he also doesn’t want to leave him down here by himself. Carefully, McIntyre hoists Pierce into his arms and carries him to bed. It frightens him a little how much lighter he is. He’d dragged his dead weight home to bed on more than one occasion and it had never been this easy. He negotiates the stairs with only a little awkwardness due to Pierce’s long limbs and lays him down gently on the bed throwing the blankets on top of him. Pierce snuggles in without making so much as a peep. McIntyre then goes downstairs to move all the dishes into the kitchen. He puts the box of cookies on the counter and re-reads the note that came with them. 

It was easy to feel a pang of jealousy picturing his Hawkeye taking care of another man. Getting close with him. Sharing hardships. Sharing those parts of himself that Trapper had come to know and love so well. He hoped that this man would be kind with his love and be the friend that he deserved. He’d already been hurt so badly. He was still hurting. Hawkeye was an open wound and Trapper was doing everything he could to protect it, flush it out and protect it from contamination. This opening themselves up to others would be a new challenge. He wasn’t sure he was ready for it, but there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Hawkeye. 

He drops the note back into the box and climbs the stairs to the loft. He watches Hawkeye sleep for a moment before crawling under the covers next to him. Trapper can tell he’s dreaming and not peacefully by the way his mouth is drawn back and his brow in furrowed. He pulls his body close to his and wraps his arms around him. “I’ve got you,” he whispers in his ear. “You’re safe.”

It seems to pacify the demons haunting Hawkeye’s dreams. He lets out a soft hum and rolls over burying his face in Trapper’s chest. Trapper spends the night keeping guard over his love and planning a strategy to start opening up to their friends. He decides he’ll need help laying the ground work and plans to call Iowa first thing in the morning. 

…………

 

“Mrs. O’Reilly? Hi, it’s John McIntyre, Walter’s friend from Korea. I just wanted to see if I could catch him before he headed out to the fields this morning…. I’m sorry, could you repeat that, the connection is picking up some static… He’s where?... Illinois?... Bloomington..” Trapper smirks, “Of course, he is… Thank you Mrs. O’Reilly. I know where I can reach him there. Take care…”

After Mrs. O’Reilly hangs up the phone Trapper stays on the line and asks the operator to get him the Blake residence in Bloomington, Illinois. He’s still smiling to himself when a familiar voice picks up the line. “Blake residence.”

“Radar! It’s Trapper! How are you and what may I ask are you doing in Bloomington?”

“Oh, Trapper, hi, I’m just…” he stutters, “I’m here helping Lorraine out with the kids. I’m just checking in to see how they are doing. Helping out around the house. You know how it is… Andrew is turning two this weekend!”

“Wow,” Trapper is thrown by the numbers, “the time has really gone by…”

“I know… How are you? Is everything okay?”

“He said yes.”

“He did! That’s great! Congratulations, sir!”

Trapper laughs, “Radar, we talked about this. You can drop all that sir nonsense.”

“Right, yes, sorry, sir… I mean, Trapper. So, what happens now?”

“Well, we’ve moved his things into the new house and now we are trying to figure out who we can tell and invite to a party to celebrate with us. You’re our best friend in the whole world. We’d be honoured if you could join us.”

“Of course! When?”

“Oh, ha, we haven’t exactly set a date. Hawkeye’d mentioned something about the fall. Which either means soon or in a year from soon… listen, I need your help…”

“Sure, what can I do?”

Trapper sighs, “We really don’t know who we can trust with this and while Hawkeye seems confident that we’ll have support but I’m nervous about fallout. I don’t want him to get hurt. He so fragile right now. Would you mind poking around and seeing where people’s heads are at with this sort of thing… maybe let it slip that Hawkeye has moved in with someone from camp and gauge the reactions and get back to me.”

“If you really think it will help, I can ask around.”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think people loved you guys. And we’re not in the army anymore. I’d like to think they’d still love you.”

“I sure hope so Radar.” There’s moment of silence. And then, “How are Lorraine and the kids?” Radar’s voice picks up and soon he’s telling Trapper tales about scraped knees, bedtime stories, camping out and playing tag in the backyard. He also talks at length about escorting Lorraine to the country club’s summer dance. He confesses to not fitting in very well but it being a lot of laughs. No matter how much they wanted to talk down to him, they couldn’t in front of Lorraine. She was a spitfire and a wonderful dancer. There was something in Radar’s voice that made Trapper think that this was more than just a friendly visit. “When are you heading back to the farm?”

“We’ll be heading home in a few weeks.”

“We’ll?”

“Well ya… I promised Molly and Andy that I’d take them to the farm and introduce them to all the animals. They are really eager to see it and my mom really wants to meet everyone.”

“Radar?”

“Ya?”

“Are you and Lorraine…” Trapper tries to find the words and hold back a chuckle at the same time, “an item?”

“I…” Radar is at a loss for words, “maybe? We’re close. We’d been writing back and forth since we lost Henry and then she invited me to Bloomington after my Uncle Ed’s funeral. Ma insisted that I go. Lori was so sad and alone. I couldn’t leave her that way. And Molly missed her dad… misses her dad so much. They’re a wonderful little family and Lori is so…”

Trapper interrupts him, “Radar, it’s okay.”

“They need me and honestly, I like being needed.”

“You’re a good man, Walter.”

“Thank you, sir,” Radar catches his mistake and they both laugh together. “I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

…………..

Hawkeye had been holding the line for the better part of an hour trying to get through to Mill Valley. Admittedly he’d picked up and hung up several times in the process. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say but he knew he needed to try and say something. 

Trapper was up on the roof again. He was determined to finish it before the rainy season and their reunion had put him behind by a few days. McIntyre had told Hawkeye about his conversation with Radar. About his encouragement and about his budding relationship with Lorraine Blake. Something in that comforted him and gave him the confidence to pick up the phone and try again. The waiting was turning his stomach. He’d gone from sitting, back to standing, back to sitting again and was nervously picking at his cuticles when the operator picked up again and the phone started ringing. 

“Hello?” a familiar sing-songy voice answers and startles Hawkeye back up to standing. 

“Beej!”

“Hawk!” he exclaims back. “Is that really you?”

“Live from the lobster capital of the world! How are you?”

“Never been better! You?” 

“Great! I received the package Peg sent and I thought I should deliver my thanks personally.”

“I don’t know where she found the time. I’ve barely let her out of my sight since she met me at the airport. I thought I loved her before, Hawk, but I’m telling you, she gets more beautiful every day. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

“I’m happy for you Beej. How’s Erin?”

“Growing like a weed and getting smarter and stronger every day. She’s her mother’s daughter.”

“That’s probably for the best. Otherwise she’d be in for a lifetime of lip waxing.”

“Har, har… still a comedian…”

“When the mood hits me. Please tell me Peg made you shave that thing off…” Silence. “Ha! I knew it! I knew she wouldn’t like it. I told you so! That’s $50!”

BJ ignores Hawkeye’s gloating and changes the subject. “You back to work yet?”

Hawkeye hesitates, “Umm… not quite… I don’t think I’m ready just yet.”

“You’ll get there. I’m starting back next week. Got on the surgical staff at Saint Francis Memorial. Not sure if I’m quite ready either but I need to get back to work if we’re going to add our family.”

“Peg’s pregnant?”

“Well, no, soon hopefully. We’ve been trying.”

“Of course you have. That’s wonderful Beej. Just wonderful.”

“So what have you been up to since you got home?”

“Oh you know…this and that…”

BJ laughs, “Driving the local ladies crazy, I imagine.”

“Not quite,” Hawkeye takes a deep breath. He sees his opening in the conversation and reluctantly navigates his way towards it. “I do have some news… I’m not really sure how to say…”

“Is everything alright?” the concern is evident in BJ’s voice and it gives Hawkeye the confidence to forge ahead. 

“No, I mean, yes, I’m fine. I’m great actually. I’m engaged.” He lets the announcement settle and finds himself sitting back down struggling to pull his knees up to his chest, so he can rest his head on them. There is no turning back now. 

“It’s Margaret, isn’t it?”

“What?” that takes Hawkeye by surprise. “No!”

“Yes! It has to be! I knew it! I guess that cancels out the $50 I owe you.”

“It does not! It’s not Margaret.”

“Don’t lie to me, I was there when you two necked goodbye, remember? That display you two put on? You’ve been flirting for years. Now that you don’t have the whole camp watching, you’re going to give being together a real shot?”

“You could not be more wrong,” Hawkeye groans getting annoyed and resuming picking at his cuticle. 

“Prove it then. Prove to me that you didn’t ask Margaret to marry you.”

“Okay. Fine,” Hawkeye relents. “What if I told you that Trapper asked me to marry him?”

“I would tell you to fuck off and give me my money,” BJ replies flatly, clearly unamused. “I know you Hawkeye Pierce and I know that there isn’t anything you wouldn’t say to win a bet. So, if it isn’t Margaret, who is it?”

Pierce let’s out an exasperated sigh, “I told you, it’s Trapper…”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” 

“Stop screwing around,” BJ laughs but it’s strained. Uncomfortable even. “I want to be supportive but you’re making it really difficult.”

“How am I making it difficult? I’m telling you the truth. I’m engaged to Trapper.”

“And what about the parade of nurses I spent a year watching you chase? What about Margaret and Carlye and Kyung Soon?” BJ was starting to sound incredulous. 

“What about them?”

“You’re not a homosexual.”

“I know I’m not,” Hawkeye agrees. “I’m a bisexual. And I’ve always loved John. I just kept it from you because you always seemed so put out whenever his name was mentioned and because… because we were in the god damn army and I didn’t know if I could trust you with this… I could barely talk to you about my family. How could I talk to you about this?” BJ is silent on the other end and Hawkeye decides to continue. “Before John was sent home, he asked me to marry him. The day I met you, I missed getting to tell him yes by ten lousy minutes and it still tears me apart inside. When I got home, he’d been waiting for me. He built me a house. He still wants to be with me after finding out everything I did after he left. He still loves me even after falling apart and being hospitalized.”

“Maybe you weren’t hospitalized for long enough…”

Hawkeye is stunned. “Excuse me?”

“I’m worried about you, Hawk… You need more treatment. You’re clearly still having delusions. There is no such thing as a bisexual.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Hawkeye gripes clenching his hands and digging a nail deeper into his cuticle. 

“I think you really need to talk to someone.” BJ’s tone sounds like honey, but the words are cruel and condescending. “Trapper’s a married man with kids. He left you in Korea a year ago and hasn’t given you a second thought since. I was there, remember? I saw everything. I know he never wrote. I know he never called. I know you think you’re engaged, but you’re not. Men don’t do that with other men. That’s not a marriage.”

“Stop! Stop it… How dare you? You’re trying to gaslight me because of something you don’t even understand. You self-righteous hypocrite. Not everyone’s marriage looks like yours, which, need I remind you isn’t perfect either. What’s the matter with you? I don’t even know who you are right now. I thought you were my best friend… After everything we’ve been through, everything we saw… you really think this is all just in my head?”

“You’re sick Hawkeye.”

There’s silence and it takes Hawkeye all his strength to summon the words, “No BJ. You are.” Pierce hangs up the phone and sits alone shaking. His thoughts race. His heart beats wildly. He wanted to cry but he has nothing left. It was killing him that he could have been so wrong about someone he loved so dearly, and he was afraid he may have just jeopardized what he had with Trapper by over playing his hand. He lifts his hands to massage his temples and notices the blood running down his fingertips. “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry (I'm not sorry...)! Please don't hate me... (but if you do, I understand)...
> 
> Now with that out of the way, if you liked it, let me know. I thrive off of encouragement. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and for sticking out this adventure with me!


End file.
